


Hang 'Em High

by ChristalMagic



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Romance, Slow Burn, Violence, but i make them suffer lol, i change things tho, i say i love Arthur and OC, tb? dont know her, this is a mess ngl, trying to keep to the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:15:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27693994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristalMagic/pseuds/ChristalMagic
Summary: Bella Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first RDR2 work, it probs won't be great but i hope some people enjoy it.  
> Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.
> 
> This will follow the story loosely but I've changed a few things to fit.   
> If there is any part you like or parts you think I could work on don't be afraid to tell me! It will help me write better in the future :) Thanks cowpokes

Emptiness. That’s all I feel.

That’s all I’ve felt for months now. That’s all I can feel despite being here, in Spaldings department store in Saint Denis, surrounded by those like me. No-they are nothing like me. Sure, I and the many others in this 3rd-floor ballroom share the same lifestyle; high society and wealth.  
Everyone around me chatters about their business, adventures around the country and how much they spent on their clothing. But I’m empty inside, a hollowed-out version of the woman I was just over a year ago.

My parents, oh how I love them, had me marry an up and coming Whiskey owner. He would have been my last choice if only I was given one. Now, 7 months into marriage…I would have taken a knife to the heart if I knew what was in store. Frank was sweet in the beginning. He showered me in precious jewellery, new horses, the chance to never work a day in my life and live happily for the rest of my years.

The latter a big fucking lie.

Now I try to hide the marks of his hand upon my skin. Trying hard to mask the constant pain, both physically and emotionally.  
I’ve learned to be a great lier in recent months, the biggest one being the smile I put on, especially in rooms like this.

—–

“Mrs Hawthorne?” I’m pulled out of my thoughts as the voices rush into my ears.

“Yes?” My attention now on the woman in front of me. Black hair, olive skin and a dress of baby blue and frills. Oh how perfect she looked, with her perfect dress and perfect husband no doubt.

“I asked when will you be bringing a little bundle of joy into yours and Frank’s life?” She looks at me with kind eyes.

“Oh. Hopefully very soon." I giggle slightly and she follows.

"Won’t be long till we have many little scallywags running you up the walls. Ain't that right my dear?” Frank boasts as he pulls me closer to him. His grip tightening.  
I can't help but nod slightly. I could never bring a child into life under his thumb, my eyes glaze slightly knowing that it almost happened.

I look around the room at the many others here for potential business to increase their wealth and social status. But my eyes land on two men that look like they don’t belong amongst us despite them trying to.

Just as my eyes land upon them, they approach us.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Implied Suicide attempt and domestic abuse

Their steps are wide and with purpose, making their way towards us. Both wearing fine suits and hats, but I could see in their eyes they didn’t belong here.

“Mr Hawthorne!” The first man hollered. He was well-groomed with black hair, a mustache and more rings than I could count as he held his hand out to Frank.

“I’m Archibald Smith. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” Their hands meet in a solid shake.

“This is my associate, Alfred Lafonde.” He gestures to the older man with him. He looked a lot kinder than Mr Smith.

“Ahh nice to meet you two gentlemen…” He shakes the older mans hand.

“…this is my wife, Annabelle.” He finally releases his grip on my arm as I nod politely at the two strangers.

“Run along now, no need to bore you with manly business talk.” Frank turns to me but I don’t hesitate to turn on my heals and leave the three men behind me.

I’m glad to finally get away, he’s been holding me like a rabid dog on a leash all night. Seeing the balcony doors I decide to get some fresh air, in the hopes of calming down the flaming despair inside me. I’m alone out on the third floor balcony, away from the deafening sounds of meaningless chatter. The railing is cold to the touch, as is the air on my skin. Closing my eyes as I listen to the quiet tapping of hooves and the tram bell in the distance. Saint Denis hardly sleeps. Neither do i.

I look down to the street below, the cobbled street seeming so far yet so close. Surely it would hurt to fall from such a hight, I think to myself. It would hurt a lot, but…it could bring the peace I’ve been searching for. The cobbles look welcoming and warm as I stare below, unable to avert my eyes.

My hands grip the railing till my knuckles turn ghostly white.

It would be easy.

It would be quick.

It would be freeing.

Just as I lean over slightly, my heart racing and my breathing staggered at the thought of leaning just a little bit too far, a hand grabs my right arm.  
Squealing at the shock and pain from an already existing bruise there, I’m pulled out of the deep trance and turn to whoever had stopped me. His hat slightly covering his eyes, only stubble and what appears to be a scar on his chin can be seen.

“I wouldn’t do that miss.” His voice is harsh and deep, but not as harsh as his grip on my arm.

“I’m sorry I - I thought I was alone out here.” My breathing still staggered as I try to catch my breath.  
He lifts his head and his eyes meet mine. Crystal blue, like a lake on a warm spring morning. I have to pull myself to look away, for the fear of drowning.

“You were really gunna do it?” His voice hinted slight worry. Worry for a stranger?

I don’t reply, just look back out to the street beyond. He huffs as he loosens the grip on my arm.

“Life can be bad, but not that bad, yo-”

“You don’t know my life!” I say sternly, looking back to his eyes. He shuffles back slightly, eyes to the ground as his hand land on the back of his neck. He went to speak next but we were interrupted by the balcony doors opening, revealing Frank and the two men he was just speaking with.  
Frank looks between me and the man at my side, his eyes filling up with anger as he looks straight at me.

“Time to go” he says deadpan, barely above a whisper. My head falls towards the ground as I quickly walk to him, his harsh grip back on my arm. I’m going to pay for this when we are in the privacy of our hotel room. I’m going to pay dearly.

Frank leads me to our room on the second floor swiftly, saying his goodbyes to others in passing. I’m almost tripping over my feet as he leads me downstairs and towards the door. My heart is racing again, I want to pull away but I can’t no matter how desperate.  
Once the door is slammed behind us he flings me onto the hard wooden floor.

“Frank…please…I didn’t do anything.” I try to plead, holding my arms up to cover my face from the expected beating. He rarely goes for the face, he doesn’t want others to see the evidence of who is truly is.  
A mistress of his threatened to speak on what he done to her only a weeks ago. He took it upon himself to make sure that didn’t happen. I was the one that had to clean up the blood.

“Didn’t do anything!? You’re nothing but a useless whore, aren’t ya?!” He says through gritted teeth. His eyes black with rage.  
His balled-up fist is in the air and I prepare myself for the pain.


	3. Chapter 3

Her fingers brushed over the new marks from the night before, more to add to the ever growing collection on her broken body.He still left her face, but the prints on her neck will prove more difficult keep hidden.  
Sharp pain bolted through her abdomen like lightning.  
Lifting her night shirt she’s met with an angry purple blotch covering the left side of her ribs. The pain is deep for a surface wound.

She retreated to the hotel room for most of the day for the hope of rest. Frank going about his usual business, not speaking but grunting in annoyance whenever she would whimper from the pain.

It was late afternoon before he spoke to her.  
“Tidy yourself up. I have a meeting and you’re coming along so i can keep an eye on you.”  
All she could do was nod, thankful to herself for packing a scarf to cover the evidence of last nights torture.

Saint Denis was usually warm, more so this time of year so the long sleeved corset dress with a silk scarf was going to be uncomfortable at best, but it’s what’s needed to keep up the facade.

The meeting room in Spaldings is spacious but dark, the lanterns flickering ever so often and one window providing only a small amount of light, the full moon providing more than the lanterns themselves.

A dark oak table graced the centre of the room, with seating for ten.  
Bella was unable to sit, the whale bones pressing into her aching ribs already making it difficult to breath while standing.

Standing by the window, looking to the street below once again as a thick fog swallowed the streets of Saint Denis. Those going about their lives disappearing into the distance, asif they are leaving this plane of existence.

Belle is pulled from her thoughts by a forceful knock on the door. Multiple men enter, a couple she knows to be Frank’s business partners followed by Mr Smith, Mr Lafonde and…oh lord…the man from the balcony. Despite the dimness within the room she can make him out clearly, although they are not wearing the same fancy garb as the previous night. Now more casual, gun belts gracing their hips.

The men laugh and jest as they enter the room, exchanging pleasantries, Frank beckoning the others to start their discussions.

Belle can’t take her eyes off the man that was on the balcony as he stands beside the door on the other side of the room.  
Praying Frank doesn’t recognise him too.

As the men begin their discussions Belle averts her gaze to the window once more, doing everything in her power to slow her raging heartbeat, threatening to break out of her chest.

She pays no mind to the conversation happening next to her as she stares out at the moon, full and with purpose.  
They could have been there minutes or hours before she was pulled from her daydreaming once more at the sound of raised voices and then a gun being cocked.  
Her head snaps to the sound, Mr Smith and Mr Lafonde holding their revolvers in the air, Mr Smith aiming the barrel towards Frank.  
Her heartbeat is raging, her breath hitched at the sight in front of her, both in fear and hope that he pulls the trigger.

“I wont say this again. You will give us what we came here for."Mr Smith’s eyes are filled with anger, his hand steady on the weapon like he’s done this many times before.

The other men stand at attention, with their hands in the air, defenseless.

Mr Smith takes a few slow steps around the table towards Frank.  
"Not going to cooperate? Fine” He nods his head towards the man in the corner.  
“Mr Callahan. His wife.”

Before Belle could react, the man strides towards her, grabbing her neck and she gasps from the sudden painful contact, holding her against his chest, something cold pressed at her temple. She knows fighting back would be futile.

“Okay Okay! Just put the gun down!” Frank finally speaks, his hand going towards the drawers beside him.

Belle is expecting him to reveal money or businesses papers, not a gun, which he swiftly aims towards Mr Smith.

Her captors grip tightens, the breath being pushed out of her.

“It was foolish of you to think I wouldn’t take precautions.” Franks cocks his revolver, his hand shaking.

He suddenly shoots into the air, alarming everyone, her ears ringing.

Mayhem ensues as one of Frank’s partners jumps on Mr Lafonde, training to disarm him, more shots ring out and punches are thrown as she’s pushed to the ground.  
Among the chaos she pulls herself towards the door, staying low to avoid the shots, every nerve in her body giving her the energy she didn’t know she had to escape. Pushing her forward.

It’s chaos on the other side of the door too, making her way to the stairs she’s pushed and dragged, losing her footing on her dress and it rips in the panic. The panic to escape, to flee and live.  
Shots now fly overhead as the men pool out of the meeting room, diving behind the table next to her to shield, she wonders if Frank is dead, lord she hopes he is.

As the men hide from the incoming bullets she spots him, gun in hand shooting in every direction in the hopes of getting a hit or two.

It’s now or never, she could crawl to the stairs, the barriers providing protection towards the doors that are just in sight. She takes the chance, her dress ripping more in the process.  
The doors are wide open, she can taste freedom, the ability not to get killed in this god forsaken place. She was content to die only 24 hours previously. She wanted to die on her terms, not at the hands of her husband or other bad men.

Her legs can barely hold her as she runs out the doors, the thick fog enveloping her as she crashes to the filthy cobbled street. She’s still not safe. Where are the lawmen? They usually litter the streets, an army should have been here moments after the first shot rang out.

Determined to get away, her weak legs still push on, making her way around the building, almost slamming into a petrified horse hitched to the post, along with two others.  
Better than going on foot she thinks to herself, attempting to muster up what little strength she has left, grabbing onto the saddles horn.

The shots are on the street now, drawing closer to her. Her head snaps back as she sees the three men that started this mess amerge and running towards her, shooting behind them, bullets lost to white blanket of fog.  
Bella staggers back as the men make their way to the horses, not paying any mind to her in their rush.

As they mount she grabs the rains attached to the horse she was so close to escaping on. Mr Callahan’s horse, just her luck.

“Move woman!” His voice is harsh, brows furrows and eyes black with fury.

She struggles to find her voice, pushing the words out.  
“Take me with you. Leave me anywhere away from here.” The words laced with plea  
He pulls in an attempt to escape her grasp but she does not give in.  
The other two men were already swallowed by the fog.  
He looks down towards her like she’s insane, which isn’t false.  
Asking one of those that are the cause of all this chaos is insane, but it’s now or never.

“Please. You saved me from dying once already. If I stay, he will sure kill me tonight.” Voice only above a whisper as she looks into his eyes. Begging for mercy.  
Voices emerge from the fog, the lawmen have finally arrived.  
Without notice she’s being pulled, pulled upwards as the horse is forced into a gallop. Letting out a squeel of pain from her ribs but she doesn’t retaliate, forcing herself up to sit behind him, grabbing hold of the man that has saved her twice now.  
The fog helping them disappear from this plane of existence.

She hopes.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn’t long until the city lights began to fade into the distance as we travelled through the marshlands of Lemoyne.

No gunshots to be heard, only the hurried breaths of the horse.

The fog had cleared slightly, seeming to just loom over that hell hole of a city.

I look forward to my rescuer, who moments ago was my captor, funny how things change in a matter of minutes.

My grip on his waist tightened as I came to terms at what had just transpired, at what I had done.

I had willingly put my life in the hands of a stranger, a bad one. Just in the hopes of escaping another bad man. Could I get away from him? Surely he would find me.

No, this is my chance, too long have i imagined being alone in a small cabin, horses and chickens out front, a dog at my feet. Solitude and peace as my partner.But what if he finds me? What if death finds me first, at the hands of the man I am now sat behind?

Stop thinking about what ifs, focus on now, clear my mind of fog that didn’t depart.

That’s when I heard him speaking.

“You listen’n’ to me?”

“Sorry, what?

“Where d’ya want me to take ya?”

I don’t know what direction we are going, to be honest, I can’t tell how far we are from Saint Denis now.

“Anywhere near a train station. Maybe Valentine or Emerald station?”

“Sure” he huffs out a breath and pulls the horse to slow.

The night was truly dark now, the stars as a blanket and the air cooling.

The adrenaline and shock had barely subsided but the pain in my ribs had returned with a vengeance, now struggling to breath properly.

The panic set in again but no breath was deep enough to calm me and with each movement the pain was blinding. My eyes trying to focus on the trees around me as they passed, going in and out of focus.

“You okay miss?” he turned his head slightly to look over at me. His voice distant.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine, just need t…” Black was enveloping my vision as a sudden weakness overtook me, falling backwards i waited for the sudden contact with the ground but it never came.

—–

I awoke to soft light in my eyes, opening them to find myself in unfamiliar surroundings and distant chatter around me.

I was on a bed, well, a cot, nothing like I have slept on before. A wagon beside me with an overhead covering, blocking out the harshness of the light.

I tried to sit up but the pain in my side made itself apparent again, unwilling to be ignored.

But I sat to look around, it seemed like a camp, littered with other tents, wagons and tables as people wondered around.

As I took in everything around me a woman walked in my direction. Blonde curled hair and showing a lot more of her bosom than I would be comfortable with.

“You’re awake! How are you feeling?” She stopped in front of me, kneeling so we would be on the same level.

“Sore. Where am i?”

“It’s okay, you’re safe now. You were unconscious when Arthur brought you in last night.”

“Mr Callahan? He brought me here?” I was confused, I would have expected a man like him to leave me wherever I fell.

She gave a light scoff “Yeah whatever name he gave you. Can you stand? You really need a bath and to get out of that dress.”

I looked down, my dress was ruined beyond repair, ripped and covered in dust and mud. 

I didn’t have any other clothes and i didn’t have any money to buy some.

The woman looked into my eyes and she seemed to know my thoughts as her features softened at my sorry state.

“We have spare clothing you can have. I’ll tell Susan you are awake and get a bath run for you” She smiled and left before I could protest. These are bad people are they not? Yet they are willing to give a stranger their clothing? 

I thought best to accept their kindness then move on as soon as possible.

I tried to stand, using the table in front of me as support, my legs wobbling as they found their strength.

Another woman came from behind the wagon, her arms out ready to support me if my legs gave way. They didn’t, but she gripped my arm anyway, letting me put my weight on her.

“Come with me, I’ve got a bath ready for you. My name is Susan, but I go by Miss Grimshaw, this lady here is Karen.” She beckoned the blonde over to us, taking my other arm and leading me to another tent, this one with more privacy. 

Susan helped me out of the ruins of my dress and I couldn’t help but gasp at the pain in my side as she did.

Dignity was the last thing on my mind right now, the need to be out of pain being stronger and I was thankful for the help to be rid of that corset.

The tent was dim but I knew Susan could see the cause of my discomfort, the once purple marks now more angry and swollen, the marks on my neck more visible. With being completely derobed she could also see the evidence of previous assaults, old bruises and scars on my arms, torso and back. 

She looked into my eyes with deep sorrow, she knew why I looked like this. 

She helped me into the warm tub with ease, handing me a bar of soap and a cloth. 

“I’ll get you medicine for the pain. It looks like you could have a broken rib or two." 

"That would explain my struggle to breath properly, and passing out.” I relaxed back, letting the water cover me completely. 

“You’re husband?” Her eyes still filled with sorrow. 

I nodded, not really wanting to speak anymore. 

“Arthur told us what happened. That you are trying to escape him." 

I didn’t answer, just wanting to find some long lost comfort, no matter how slight. 

With that she left the tent, leaving me to relax and wash yesterday’s memories away.

Karen entered the tent shortly after, leaving me some fresh clothing and I mumbled my thank yous before she left. 

Despite wanting to stay in the waters warm embrace all day, I got out once I felt refreshed enough, drying off and putting on the new clothing. 

Simple white chemise, white blouse and blue skirt, thankful for the lack of a corset. These were not much different to what I would wear while tending the horses at home, only these being a bit more worn and cheaper. I didn’t care, anything comfortable was a blessing. 

It must have been mid afternoon, judging by the sun high in the sky. I hobbled to the table and chairs ahead, taking short steps to keep me from falling. 

A few eyes on me as I made my way. 

Susan approached with a bottle of medicine and food, stew and bread. 

"It’s not what you will be used to but eat what you can." 

"Thank you, Miss Grimshaw. You have been very kind to me.” She sat beside me, edging to bowl closer to encourage me to eat. 

“We are a family here. We help those that need it.” She smiled. 

“And I suggest you stay with us a little while until you have healed properly. I can have a bed set up for you." 

All I could do was look at her. These are bad people, why would they continue to help me? 

"Really I don’t wish to be anymore of a burden." 

"Nonsense. I’ll get a bed setup for you.” She waved her hand dismissively as she stood to leave. 

“Annabelle is it?" 

I nodded, "Or Bella." 

With that she strolled off towards a wagon. Before I could carry on eating the stew the chair beside me was pulled out, the space being taken up by none other than the one that brought me here. 

"How are you feeling?” His voice still hoarse and deep. I realised this was the first time seeing him in the light. His features rough but not unpleasant. The scar on his chin more noticeable. He didn’t look like the typical bad guy from the story books, especially his eyes, deep blue, still reminiscent of a clear crystal lake. 

“Sore. Hurts to breath. But relieved. Miss Grimshaw has been very kind to me.” I looked down at my unfinished stew, nerves suddenly getting the best of me. 

“I have to thank you Mr…" 

"Morgan, Arthur Morgan." 

I exhaled a small laugh, trying to avoid anymore pain. 

"Mr Morgan. Thank you for saving me again. I owe you my gratitude.” I smiled at him, keeping my eyes locked with his until he broke away his gaze.

“S'alright. Couldn’t leave you there after what you said." 

We locked eyes again for a moment, not knowing what to say. He glanced down at the bruise around my neck then to the faded ones on my arms before looking back up at me, sensing I was now slightly uncomfortable as I shifted in my seat.

"If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask. If you want any whiskey to take the edge off, ask anyone but the old bastard, Uncle. He won’t part with any of his stash.” He chuckled as I did, relaxing me of any other stress I had. 

He stood to leave as I returned to my stew and I thought maybe these people aren’t as evil as I think they are.


	5. Chapter 5

The two weeks that passed were a struggle, the pain was easing now but i couldn’t ease my mind no matter how i tried. Sitting out on the edge of the overlook would help slightly, looking out at the vastness of the wild lands, being the same height as the birds.  
But my mind always returned to him, to Frank. Surely after two weeks I would have heard something or read something in the papers that Hosea or Arthur would return with each morning. Arthur had said maybe he won’t look for me, maybe he’s not as possessive when it came to me…his wife. I doubted his words but hoped they could be true.

Getting closer to the others here helped as a distraction and Miss Grimshaw made sure my time here wasn’t wasted, having me wash clothing or stitch ripped garments when I was feeling more useful. The girls were very kind, the only one I didn’t speak too much being Mrs Sadie Adler. She had been through so much and was still adjusting but she seemed like a strong woman, all of the women do in fact. Abigail had to juggle a young boy and a man that didn’t seem to want to be a father. Mary-Beth let me borrow some of her books, to be honest, they are awful romances but entertaining enough not to put down. Karen would share her drink with me while we sat round the fire, Javier singing into the night.

This morning, Hosea asked me to join him in a game of dominos. Despite never playing the game before he was happy enough to teach me. He was wise and seemed to be the only one of the guys that was more logical when it came to jobs that needed to be done and how they should be done.

“You sure you’ve never played before. It’s a simple game but you got the hang of it quickly.” he said as he placed his tile down.

“Used to play poker, blackjack and chess with my father. Frank never let me gamble, saying gambling is a man’s sport that’s too complex for a woman to understand.”

He scoffed at that and shook his head “Seems like a quality man, shame robbing him wasn’t successful.”

I giggled, continuing our game in silence until Arthur approached, mentioning how he was going to Valentine to meet up with Javier, Charles and Bill. Hosea told him to keep out of trouble as Arthur turned to leave. 

I decided to cut the game short, telling him I needed to ask a favour before Arthur left.

I made my way over to where he was saddling his horse, a beautiful Mahogany Bay Tennessee Walker named Barley.

“Hey Arthur, could I ask a favor? If you’re not busy.”

“Sure.”

“I have a couple of things I’d like to sell, would you be willing to take me to a fence?

He pondered for a moment, weighing out the pros and cons as he pulled out his cigarettes from his satchel and lighting one.

“Promise you won’t fall off my horse again?” He grinned slightly, meeting my gaze. 

“I’ll try my best.” I couldn’t help but to giggle at his taunt, looking down the ground as i flushed with embarrassment. 

He nodded and blew out a puff of smoke as I turned to get what I needed.  
The first night I arrived my dress was ruined, now being used for rags and patches but my necklace and earrings were still intact and could sell for a good price. I put them into my new satchel, given to me by Charles as he had no use for it anymore. Him and Arthur brought back a few good pelts and meat a few days ago. I really need to gain the courage to ask if I can join in their next hunt. I hadn’t hunted in years, that being another thing my father taught me. 

The ride to Emerald Ranch didn’t take long, Arthur kept the ride slow thinking I might fall again, possibly seeing me as this delicate being that would shatter if we got anywhere near the speed of a gallop.

The man at the fence, Seamus his name was, was more generous than I was expecting. $75 for the necklace and earring set.  
I didn’t really care about how much I would get, I wanted to get rid. Frank bought them after all.  
I unconsciously fiddled with my hands as he counted the money, my fingers brushed over the ring on my left hand.  
Looking down at it, the three small diamonds glinting in the midday sun, thoughts of my wedding day flooding into my mind.  
White silk that pooled at my feet, a train following behind. The intricate floral embroidery that hugged around the bodice. It being so tight it lifted my chest till I felt like my breasts were directly under my chin.  
I felt like a princess marrying her prince. Life is nothing like Mary-Beths books. My Prince being the villain in my life.

As i snapped back into reality i pulled off the ring without a second thought, handing it over to Seamus.

“How much for this too?.” I could see Arthur now staring at me out of the corner of my eye, he knew I was trying to rid myself of any memory of that man.

Seamus took the ring, holding it close to his face as he examined it “Now this is nice. Not too old and made by one of the biggest diamond companies in New York by the looks of it.” He looked to me for confirmation. I nodded, mentioning that it was made only 8 months ago and one of a kind.

I came away with $175 in total, offering to give Arthur some as a thanks, he refused so I made a mental note to sneak it in his saddlebag when he wasn’t looking.

He offered to take me back to camp before he headed to Valentine but i wanted to spend some of my new fortune, plus it was nice to be out of camp after two weeks of being in too much pain or scared to venture outside of it’s perimeter.

Once in the muddy cattle town of Valentine, Arthur hitched his horse outside of the Saloon where he was meeting the others. He dismounted and held out his arms to help me down. I reached out to his shoulders and he took that as permission to hold me by the waist, making sure he was gentle on my left side. I was told my ribs would take a month or more to heal depending on how bad. Breathing was back to normal but the dull ache and sharp shooting pains still persisted.

He headed towards the Saloon telling me to meet him back here when I was done.  
I’d never been to Valentine before, i haven’t been to many places the last 7 months unless it was with with Frank at business parties or joining other business partners for a fancy dinner. I scanned my eyes around the various buildings and my eyes landed on my target, the Gunsmith. 

I don’t need anything pricey or flash, just something capable of protection if the need arose.  
I was living with outlaws now, people who live a life of crime to survive and who knows what my life will be like when I leave. Maybe i’ll make my way to New York to find my brother, he might know where mother and father are now. I miss them all dearly.

A cattleman revolver seemed like the best option as I looked through the catalog, cheap and it would do the job.  
It had been a long time since I handled a gun. I still remember how displeased my mother was of my father teaching me how to get comfortable with one. I really should have asked for more lessons.

I thanked the store owner for his help and his generosity in giving me a gun belt seeing as it was my first gun to own.

Sloshing my way through the mud to the saloon, adjusting the belt till it was comfortable hanging off my hip I could hear a commotion behind the doors. Before I had the chance to ascend the stairs and push open the doors a loud smashing happened to my left, causing me to jump backwards as a body was propelled out of the window.  
Not some random someone, Arthur.

Before I could react the saloon doors swung open, knocking me off balance as a huge burly man made his way out and towards Arthur, now on his feet ready to continue the fight. 

They laid into each other, fists flying in the air towards each other’s face. I stood in shock, not knowing what to do until the large man had Arthur pinned to the floor, punching him relentlessly as he tried to block each blow to his face and gut.

An audience had circled them, grateful for the entertainment by the sounds of it.  
I couldn’t just stand back, my feet unconsciously moving me towards the fight to somehow intervene but before I made it off the stairs a hand pulled my arm, pulling me back towards them gently.

“Don’t even try Palomita.” Javier said as he released my arm and then sat on the stairs to watch the show. 

“Aren’t you going to help him?” My voice was louder than i expected, showing the anger i didn’t know i felt about this current situation.

He just shook his head and giggled “He’s a big boy, he can hold his own.” 

Letting out a huff, I turned to see that Arthur had now gained the high ground, punching the man in the face over and over as Charles and Bill shouted words of encouragement from beside me.

Through the crowd of shouting onlookers a man comes through yelling them to stop. Intervening and stopping the possible last fatal blows.

“Stop! Stop! Please!” he shouts, now facing Arthur

“You won the fight already, surely that’s enough?” he continues to beg, Arthur releases his grip on the bloodied man into the mud.

“What business is it of yours?”

“No business, but please i beg you” the man continues to beg but Arthur just pushes him out of his way, making his way through the crowd as they now disperse. The fun now over.  
I hastily make my way over to him, passing the man still in the mud without even a glance, my eyes not able to avert from Arthurs sorry state, covered in mud and in obvious pain as he sits on a chair outside another store.

At first I didn’t know what to say to him. Is this normal for them? I shouldn’t be making a fuss if it is.

“Are you okay?” is all i can say, silently cursing at myself at my stupid question.

He looks up to me as I kneel in front of him, he can sense my concern, snickering slightly as his hand reaches up to his jaw, trying to rub away the ache.

“I’m fine. Don’t be worryin’ bout me.”

You can’t help it for some strange reason, still wanting to help him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, the hotel has a bath.” I nod in the direction of the hotel across from us, hoping he will take up the offer. But before we can make our way an unfamiliar British voice calls over to us.

“Making new friends again i see Arthur”

We turn to the voice, a smartly dressed man making his way over to us along with Dutch.

“Look who we found sniffing about.”

“Josiah Trelawney…” Arthur calls to him as he takes a welcoming bow “…I thought you’d gone to New York.”

“And miss all this glamour? You must be joking.” They all laugh

“How are you?” 

“Well. Quite well indeed…” His attention turns from Arthur to me as we make our way towards them. “…I’m sorry, we haven’t been introduced. Josiah Trelawney.” He extends his gloved hand to me. 

“Bella Hawthorn. Nice to meet you.” i shake his hand and smiling politely.

“My, my. You still enjoy the company of high society women i see Arthur.” He smirks, not taking his eyes off me as he lets go of my hand. 

“Nothing like that Josiah.”

I blush slightly at his comment but I excuse myself to leave the men to their conversation, motioning over to the hotel and hoping they didn’t notice the sudden pink in my cheeks.

—–

The water was heated perfectly as Arhtur makes his way into the room, slight moans escaping his lips, placing what looks like clean clothes he must have had stored on his horse on a chair.

He shrugs off his sodden jacket, dropping it to the floor and he works on the buttons of his blue shirt and pulling the suspenders down his arms. I’m frozen, unsure of what to do before realising i should leave him to it. He moans in pain again as he attempts to pull his shirt off his arms, the fresh aches and pains making it a struggle.

Once again, without thinking, I make my way over to him to help, this time no one to stop me but myself. With his back turned to me, he jolts slightly at my touch as I gently guided both of his arms out of his shirt, it now joining his jacket on the floor.

He turns to me, not meeting my eyes as he murmurs his thanks, his hands then turning to his gun belt to remove it. 

The silence between us is deafening and awkward, he’s the one to break it. “I see you got yourself a gun.” 

“Thought i’d treat myself.“ I smile and finally turn to the door, pulling at the handle.

“I’ll wait for you outside.” It was barely above a whisper but I didn’t turn back for confirmation that he heard me.  
Instead I shut the door behind me gently, leaning against it and releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding in.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Animal death and mentions of domestic abuse and abortion

A few days had passed in the camp, many were busy either around camp or out on jobs to bring in money. Mary-Beth and Tilly explained to me what the jobs would entail, most of the time putting themselves in serious danger. Having enough to get by wasn’t enough, especially for Dutch, occasionally giving smooth worded speeches to everyone like he was the Mayor of a grand town. He wanted more money, a lot of it for everyone to live a life of luxury.  
Arthur had recently returned from Strawberry to rescue a member of the gang i had not yet met, but had been warned about. Apparently the rescue mission didn’t go as smoothly as planned. Arthur aimed to get him out of jail and out of Strawberry with minimum confrontation. The other guy had different plans.

As I sat on my bedrole in my small tent stitching one of his shirts, the very man I’d been warned about approached.“I’m almost done with your shirt Micah.” i smiled politely at him, not wanting to get on his bad side from the get go but hoping to stay cautious while around him.He leaned against the tree beside my tent, lighting a cigarette as he did so.“So where did they pick you up from?” He looked towards me and it was then I realised everything he might say would be laced with venom.

“Saint Denis. More of a rescue than a pick up.” I returned my attention to the task in hand.

He blew out a cloud of smoke in my direction, the smell of cheap tobacco filling my nose. It was his way to invade my space without being too forward. I wouldn’t let it bother me, what with the many social gatherings that involved being in rooms filled with smoke and smoking myself on those occasions. He let out a breath, a sigh, before pushing himself off the tree and walking away, but not before muttering words he still made sure I could hear. “Another deadweight to feed.”

All I could do was chuckle to myself, cutting the thread in my hand with a knife. Deciding that he didn’t deserve my effort to achieve perfection.

By late evening I joined the others around the campfire, sitting next to Charles and Karen, the former handed me a freshly opened beer bottle. I was so used to expensive French wine, chilled in an ice bucket. I’ve gotten used to so much these last few weeks, living in the wild. The thought before would scare me half to death but I soon found it was different with a sense of family around you.  
Growing up i was taught the life of a gang of outlaws was a brutal one, the men being fueled and finding joy in murder, rape and theift, nothing more than monsters that have no care for anything other than themselves.  
I was never told that sometimes they could be people out of luck, born and raised without security and certainty, needing to do what they could to get by with the hope that they could one day, live without worrying when their next meal could be.  
These people around me all have terrible backstories and that’s what brought them together, with the hopes of a better future as long as they fight for it together, even if that meant doing bad things.

I was the opposite, my life was paved out for me from the day I was born. To learn to be a loving and doting wife and mother. We never had to worry about our next meal, always knowing it would be fresh and grand. I was also lucky that my father wanted to teach me some of what he would teach my two older brothers, mainly hunting and how to care for our horses. I was so lucky, I was privileged. Javier brought out his guitar and started singing in his native tongue, some of us swaying to the tune.

I heard of Charles and Arthur going out to hunt tomorrow, this was my chase to ask to join with them.I turned my attention to Charles, tapping him lightly on the arm for his attention to turn to me.

“Everything okay Bella?”

“I heard you and Arthur are going on a hunt tomorrow.”

“We are. At first light. You wanting anything in particular?”

“Is it possible that I join you both? I know how to use a bow, father taught me and it’s…it’s been a while…i’d love to hunt again.” I looked at him with pleading eyes as he took a swig from his bottle before turning to me with a soft smile.

“Of course, always happy to have someone else along that knows what they are doing.” I couldn’t play down my happiness, grinning from ear to ear and professing my thanks to Charles.  
I sipped the rest of my warm beer before saying my goodnights to the ones remaining around the fire and to Charles that I’ll see him at first light. I tried my best to prevent a skip in my step as I made my way to my bedroll, excited for sleep and the day ahead.

…..

The sun was barely making an appearance when I woke, stretching out my limbs before readying myself for the day, thankful to Sadie for offering me a pair of her pants she didn’t want. Not only was I able to get out and do something I enjoyed, being amongst nature, but I was able to do something to help the camp other than repairing clothes and washing dishes. 

Making my way over to the coffee pot I saw Arthur was already there, sitting on a log near the now burnt out fire, coffee in hand. 

“Morning”  
He jumped slightly and turned to me, watching as I poured myself a hot cup.

“You’re up earlier than usual.” He turned his attention back to his cup as I sat beside him.

“I’m coming hunting with you…and what do you mean earlier than usual? You been watching me Mr Morgan?” I took a sip, Arthur spluttered his, seemingly trying not to choke on the burning liquid.

“What?…no…just…i’m usually first awake is all.” I smiled in my cup, hopefully hiding my slight giggle. A man of his size and how intimidating he can seem, he sure can get flustered easily, his cheeks turning a muted shade of pink. It was fun.  
We finished our coffee and made our way over to Charles and the horses, getting them saddled up.

“You feel well enough to ride yourself Bella?” Charles asked, tightening the saddles girth so it fit snugly but comfortably around the horse. 

“I’m sure I’ll be fine…” I looked over to Arthur, grinning “…I won’t be falling off anytime soon.”  
“Take Johns horse, he won’t be needing her today.” Arthur pointed over to the horse mentioned and I made my way over to sadde her.

.…..

The ride out into the heartlands towards Cumberland Forest was pleasant, the morning sun warming the earth and birds filling the air with their song. It was peaceful,the most peaceful I’ve felt in a long while. Still nothing of the attempted robbery or information about my disappearance had been read or heard of. Maybe Arthur was right, maybe Frank didn’t care that i was gone, maybe he thought i was dead. I hope he did. We made it to the spot at Cumberland Forest and hitched the horses within the outskirts, hidden from view. Arthur let me use his bow, saying he was better with a rifle anyway.  
The three of us walked further into the forest, making sure to keep an eye and ear out for bears that roam the area.

“Why don’t we split up?” Charles suggested in a hushed toned as to not to disturb the surrounding wildlife.

“Sure. Bella can come with me, might not need to use the rifle if she don’t miss.” Arthur smirked. My expression one of mock disgust and punching him lightly in the arm. Granted I might be a bit rusty, it had been a couple of years since I hunted or even held a bow, but I’m sure once I get my mind focused it will be like second nature. Another thing I hope for. 

Charles moved further into the forest, me and Arthur moving closer to the Dakota river. The forest was tranquil and busy at the same time, the smell of pine and aspen filling my nose, the intense gaze of the sun being softened by the green blanket above, lighting everything in an orange hue. Any light that broke through the leaves lighting up in patches on the ground, able to see the suns daily path across the dirt from the sections of thick grass and various plants. Songbirds and sparrows weaving through the labyrinth of branches, hunting for bugs and seeds as they sang their love songs.  
For a moment it felt like we were the only people in existence as we walked in a comfortable silence.

As we neared the river Arthur lifted his hand for attention then pointed ahead. Two whitetail deers drinking from the river.  
We crouched down, keeping out steps slow and light as we neared them.  
Once we stopped Aarthur looked to me, giving a nod for me to take my aim.  
I nocked the arrow, drawing it till the string resisted, keeping my chin low and feet steady, Arthur giving a soft whistle to get their attention. Two breaths and releasing on the exhale, the arrow flew to the mark, hitting the deer through its right eye, killing it instantly.  
I breathed in a huff of triumph as Arthur smiled at my glee.  
We made our way over, Arthur pulling on the animal readying to lift it.

“Maybe i didn’t need the rifle.”

“Didn’t trust me?” we smirked at each other, both pleased that we got a kill so soon.  
Arthur whistled for his horse as I gazed out at the river, hoping to see another distracted deer.

He wrapped the animal in rope and secured it onto the back of his horse but we soon realised we were not paying proper attention to our surroundings as we should have.

A guttural roar came from the thick forest behind us, too close for comfort.  
Before we had any time to react a mass of fur and teeth was bounding out of the treeline towards us, its black eyes trained on me. Fight or flight instincts kicked in, my legs pushing my back into a run, tripping over a river rock as I turned, planting straight into the river. I knew I couldn’t get up quick enough, legs still pushing me backwards but failing to get traction, arms stretching out in front of my face like I could stop the beast with my own hands.  
Just as it was above me, staring down the cavern that was a throat, a crack of thunder rang out in my ears, echoing into the distance. The beast above me ceased and dropped on my legs, red splattered on my pants, shirt and no doubt my face.I looked at the stilled bear with wide eyes and then over to Arthur, rife in hand.  
My breathing steadying as I came down from the shock of what just happened and pushing the animal off me to stand.

“Maybe you did need that rifle.” i giggled, looking towards Arthur, his eyes full of concern but a smile creeping on his face at my attempt to bring humor to the situation.

I wasn’t just covered in bear blood but soaked from landing in the river. I tried to shake off what I could and wring out the water from my shirt.

Arthur walked over holding out a dry shirt for me to take. “I always carry fresh on my horse. Better than being soaked through completely.” I took the shirt and muttered a thanks, making my way out of the river and onto dry land, Arthur making a start on skinning the bear and whistling over Johns horse  
.  
The cold breeze hit my wet skin, making me shiver so I wasted no time in removing my drenched shirt, peaking over my shoulder to make sure he was distracted before also removing my camisole, now bare from the waist up. Pain shot up my side due to my hurried pace, letting out a quiet gasp, looking down at the still present bruise on my ribs, less angry, but persistent nonetheless.

“There’s trees right there y’ know.”  
My moment of pain must have caught his attention. Embarrassment flushed to my cheeks and I quickly pulled on his shirt and buttoned it up. It buried my small frame, stopping mid thigh, and it smelled like him, the faint hint of tobacco and gunpowder.

“Scared.”

“Why?”

“Bears.”

He huffed a laugh, lifting the bear hide and stowing it on johns horse. Both of us mounted up and started making our way to Charles’ horse, silently deciding that was enough hunting for us today.Once there we built a campfire and I sat as close to it as comfortably possible, drying off my pants and sharing some fresh bear meat between us. We both were lost in thought, sitting in silence across from each other as we ate. I decided to break the silence with another request.

“Teach me to shoot properly?” it came out as both a demand and a question.He just looked at me while he chewed on the meat, the flames dancing over his face.“Father taught me how to handle a pistol, but i want to be sure i can protect myself…against bears…and people.”

“You never went hunting after bein’ married?”  
I shook my head and sighed, looking down at the unfinished meat in my hands.

“No. Frank wouldn’t allow it. He would say the only things women are for are cooking, breeding and fucking.” 

“The more I learn about him, the more I wish I’d shot the bastard.” The anger in his tone was evident and with no hint of doubt. 

We sat in silence, the midday sun now high in the sky. He seemed to be lost in thought for a while before opening his mouth wanting to say something before changing his mind. I looked to him expectedly, wanting him to say what he wanted. His eyes locked with mine, knowing I was giving my permission to speak his thoughts.After a brief moment of silence, he finally broke it.

“I…those…those scars ya have. They from him too?” 

So he did see. I hummed in response before giving him a proper answer.  
“My broken ribs weren’t from falling off your horse either. A lesson for flirting with the bastard on the balcony.”

“Jesus”

“He was so kind when we first met before getting married, always sending me gifts, flowers, jewelry. Written love letters and saying that he was building a stable at our future home, a homecoming gift for his sweetheart…” Arthur didn’t speak as I paused, instead standing to retrieve something from his saddlebag before making his way around the fire to sit beside me, handing me a bottle of Bourbon. I smiled as I took it, opening it and taking a few gracious gulps, feeling the burning sensation trickle down my throat.

“…He gradually changed after only being married for a few weeks. Dictating what i could wear and what hobbies i could indulge in, preventing me from seeing or talking to my childhood friends. Then the beatings would start getting worse… the assaults…eventually i couldn’t sleep out of fear of what was to come when sharing a bed with him.” I took in a shaky breath, willing my tears not to breach.

“Couldn’t ya have returned to ya parents?”

I shook my head before taking another swig and handing the bottle back to him.  
“I wanted to but…i was married off to him because my parents were struggling with the farmlands after three bad winters. Franks promised financial support in exchange for my hand. He even ceased all contact with them after only a month. I wrote letters to them but I never got one back. I have no idea what happened. Frank knew I wanted to leave so he promised to force a baby into me. That way, I’d have no choice but to stay with him.”

I didn’t know why i was telling Arthur all this, maybe because i knew it would help to get it off my chest, maybe because i felt like i could trust him. I didn’t want pity, I realised, just a listening ear, someone to lend me their comfort for a little while.I hesitated before continuing. Arthur’s eyes on me like I was a lost puppy, reaching out my hand for the bottle again he passed it to me without a word.  
I took another sip for courage, or so I couldn’t feel the pain of reliving my horror.

“I ended up falling pregnant. When I found out early on, I was more terrified in that moment than I had been in my life. He was elated of course, finally getting what he wanted. I knew he would be a horrible father, knew he wouldn’t think twice about lifting his hand to a child. So I decided I couldn’t let that happen. Had a doctor visit while he was on an overnight business meeting, some of his practices a known secret amongst many women.”

Tears silently flowed as I stared into the growing flames of the fire. A hand placed gently on my knee for comfort and in understanding.

“Did…did he find out?”

“Told him I lost it. He shot my horse as punishment for being a failure of a woman.”

“Bella…I’m sorry” It was barely above a whisper, anything louder and i might shatter like century old glass.He drew circles on my knee with his thumb as I wiped away the fallen tears. I made a silent vow never to cry over that man again, not to let him take up space in my mind. Absentmindedly I leaned into Arthurs touch, his shoulder meeting my temple, breathing in my first steady breath, Arthur wrapping his arm around me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's learnt to shoot *pew pew*

Bear hide, a deer and deer hides along with a few rabbits and many herbs thanks to Charles means we will all be eating well for the next week or so. It was a successful hunt, given what happened.

This morning had been slow, helping Pearson prepare today's meals, reading, and laundry. I was trying to think of other ways I could contribute, to prevent myself from going mad doing the same things every day, I don't know how the other girls do it.   
Doing laundry with the other girls, Tilly and Mary-Beth, helped the time go by a bit quicker than a snail's pace.  
They reminded me a lot of my childhood friends that I grew up with, daughters of the neighbouring farm.  
I missed them terribly and hoped wherever they were, they would be safe and happy. I miss our conversations, talking about boys, the latest clothing that was in fashion in New York, Paris and London, politics, women's rights, you know, the usual girl talk.  
Conversations with the girls at camp were not much different, just a bit more impure and harsh than I was used to.   
It was all fun and games until they started asking if I had my eye on anyone in camp.

“Don't be shy, Bella. Must be someone you find easy on the eyes here.” Mary Beth giggled

“After my experience, I wouldn't say no to never involving myself with a man again.”

“There are good men out there, finding the right one just takes time. If only it was as simple as it is in the books. Bumping into them one evening and then riding off into the night together.”

Me and Tilly share a humorous look, stifling our laughter.

“Anyway, life ain't just about finding the one and settling down. You can always have fun...and rob them after.” Tilly says, causing the three of us to burst into laughter.

“What’re you three gigglin’ about?” Arthur interjects from behind us, causing all of us to jump in surprise.

“Just lady things Mr Morgan” Tilly replies, Arthur letting out a doubtful huff before turning his attention to me.  
“You still wantin’ that shootin’ lesson Miss Bella?” 

“Of course. Now?”

“If you're free” 

I looked over to the other girls, silently asking for permission to leave them with the rest of my chores. Thankfully they did. 

“Yeah, I’m free now” I smiled up at him.

“Get sorted and I'll meet you at the horses.” He smiled back and walked off towards his tent.

Turning my attention to finish off washing the shirt in my hands as quickly as possible, I could feel eyes boring into the back of my skull, waiting for me to look over to them. I couldn't, I just hoped they couldn't see the sudden blush forming on my cheeks.

“Don't get any ideas. He's just teaching me how to shoot.” Keeping my eyes on the shirt I was working on with haste and earning myself more doubtful hums and giggles.

I changed into pants and holstered my gun before making my way over to Arthur and his horse. He helped me up in one swift motion before mounting himself.   
As we were leaving camp we passed Tilly and Mary-Beth, now working on the few garments I had left. Both watching us as I shook my head at them. 

“Don't forget to have fun Bella” Tilly shouted over as we left, shaking my head again, thankful to be sat behind Arthur but hoping he wouldn't look back as I was blushing once again.

“What she talking about?”

“Oh, I don't really know.”

. . . . .

We stopped off in Valentine to buy more ammo before heading towards the heartlands, finding a hilled area away from any roads. Arthur had brought along loads of empty beer and whiskey bottles and set them up in a line on a large rock. 

He handed me his carbine repeater and pushed me forward slightly, starting a few feet away from the bottles.

“Let’s see what you know then.”

I held the gun up, placing the butt onto my shoulder and tilting my head down the sight, gripping with both hands.   
Taking a few breaths and aiming for a large whiskey bottle, I pulled back on the trigger quickly as I let out a breath.   
The repeater shot back into my shoulder abruptly, pain shooting through my arm and neck, knocking back a few steps.   
No shattering of glass was heard, just my gasps of pain and Arthur's laugh at my spectacular failure. 

“You ain’t standing right or holding it right.” he starts walking over, positioning the gun to sit snugly against my shoulder, away from my collarbone, then moving my hand further down the forestock, telling me not to grip too tightly and to rest my cheek on the stock naturally.   
He then moves to stand behind me placing his hands on my shoulders, gently turning me to the right a few degrees. He barely removes his hands as he trails them down to my hips, tightening and turning me slightly to the left, then kicking my feet further apart, placing them in a more steady position.  
My eyes are focusing on the bottles down the sight, my mind on his hands, still gripping onto my hips. 

“Steady your breathing, pull the trigger with empty lungs.”   
Steady my breathing? Impossible when I can feel his breath on my neck. But I will try. Try to focus on my breathing, to keep my feet planted firmly. All while taking in how warm his hands are through my clothing, his grip not faltering. 

Inhale…

Exhale…

Shoot…

Glass shatters ahead of me. The Whiskey bottle now no more.  
Lowering the gun I looked over to the rock to confirm I did actually hit it, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Well done. Now the others.” He finally releases his hands but remains right behind me.

We carry on till no bottles are left, which took a while, missing more than I hit with each round but getting better each time.   
Arthur would correct my stance whenever needed, his hands seemingly calling themselves at home on my waist each time he did so.

Before long there were no more bottles left to be shattered. It was harder than I originally imagined with having to focus on more things than just aiming and pulling the trigger. I’d need to practice more, that's for sure.  
Thanking Arthur for his help, returning his gun to him we decided to relax beneath a large tree nearby to escape the afternoon sun, sharing a chocolate bar between us as we talked. 

“Ya still planning on leaving since you're all healed now?”

“I don't know. Not sure where I would go anyway.” He hummed in response and took another piece of chocolate, handing the last two pieces to me.  
“I do have a brother in New York somewhere. If he's even still there I wouldn't know where to find him.”  
I took the last piece of chocolate into my mouth, letting it melt on my tongue to savour the sweetness. 

“Ya could always stay with us. Sure ya won't always have a soft bed or grand meals but we can keep you safe.”

“It's funny...I feel safer with a gang of outlaws than I did in a grand house with personal security.” I said as I gave a hollow laugh. 

It was true I did feel much safer. I didn't need to sleep with one eye open or feel like I was always walking on eggshells, waiting for the inevitable crack. I don't care about having a soft bed, given that recently has been the best I've slept in months, apart from the odd nightmare that wakes me.  
They have always been the same. I’m standing out in a lush valley, the sun is shining, the breeze is cool and the birds are singing. The camp behind me filled with the now-familiar chatter and laughter from little Jack. It's peaceful for a moment until the clouds turn black and the sun seems to die. Fog across the once heavenly horizon growing bigger with a familiar silhouette drawing closer. They call my name like venom in my ears. Voices from the camp change from laughter to shouts of my name too, urging me to get to them but I can't move.   
No matter how much I try I can't turn and run, feet stuck like they are encased by hardened mortar, my eyes fixed on the one ahead. It's Frank, his face distorted and covered in blood, his eyes burning with rage. He lunges towards me, his hands constricting around my throat like a Python that hasn't eaten in months. Then I wake, jolting upright and my breathing staggered till I realise where I am. 

Arthur moves to his satchel, pulling out a worn book and a pencil, flicking absentmindedly through the pages for a moment. I watch with curiosity as he brings the pencil to the page, making quick strokes, his brow furrowed in concentration. Watching him for a few moments I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of serenity and wanting to bask in it’s feeling forever. His gaze on the page does not falter, determined to convey whatever he intended to perfection. 

“What are you doing?”

He keeps his eyes on the task in hand.   
“Nothin’ really. Just ramblings and drawings I do to pass the time.”

“Can I see some?”   
He looks hesitant and at that moment I regret asking him to share something that is obviously meant to be private. But he nods his head to beckon me closer and murmurs a quiet “Sure” 

I sit beside him, shoulder to shoulder as he flicks through the pages, a blur of white and charcoal grey. He stops to show me a few pages, they are littered with small drawings of plants and animals, telling me what each of them are if they don't come with an already written name.  
Other pages include strange buildings and stranger people he has encountered, each of them so detailed and beautiful I could imagine what they looked like as if each subject was placed right in front of me.   
He returns to the previous page he was working on, a half-finished drawing of a woman, her back turned but holding up a gun, aiming at a row of bottles perched on a rock in the distance. I look up to him once I realise but he doesn't look back. He opened his mouth to speak, probably to explain or apologise for not seeking my permission but before he could say a word I look at him again. 

“I’ve never had someone draw me before.” I smile, hoping to ease any worry or embarrassment he may have.  
His eyes finally meet mine as he turns, those blues I swear I could still drown in if I look for too long. My heart starts racing and I can feel the blood pulsing through my veins when I realise how close to each other we are, our faces mere inches away. His scent filling my nose, warm and inviting.  
My eyes dart down instinctively to his lips then back up in the hopes he didn't notice but it's evident when his pupils flare that he did. He saw.   
I don’t know what's happening, don't understand what I am doing until I start leaning in towards him and he follows.  
I can almost feel him against my lips, I can almost taste him as a shot rings out in the air not far in the distance, accompanied by shouting. We both jerk backwards instantly, our eyes tore away from each other as we scan the area around us. 

He stands to look around, hand on his holstered gun, telling me to stay put as he goes to check it out, hoping for no danger.  
As he leaves I feel like I can finally breathe, no longer drowning and I try to think about what just happened, what was about to happen. Was I trying to recreate what happens in them god awful romance novels? I'm not a child anymore, I can't be getting myself involved with bad men in that way. I needed to get a hold of myself.   
A voice in my head telling me I can't deny he's the first man to show me this sort of kindness in a long time. He's gone out of his way multiple times to help me and to make sure I'm safe.   
But he does that for the other girls at camp, he cares about them too and does everything in his power to make sure the whole gang can sleep safely. He does it all and denies himself the right to gratitude.  
Frank isn't a fraction of a man that Arthur is.

I was still lost in thought when Arthur came back into view but he wasn't alone. Accompanied by a horse, a beautiful Chestnut Kentucky Saddler.   
The creature was visibly shaken, it’s body tense, ears pinned back and tail swishing from side to side, Arthur offering constant words of encouragement and pats on the neck to help calm it.

“Robbery gone bad, fella is dead.” He handed the reins over to me delicately “Here.”

I took the reins in my hand, looking to him with obvious confusion.

“Didn't want to leave her there.”

I extend my free hand out towards her nose to show I'm no threat as I study her overall form, ears not forward. She seems fit and strong, obviously cared for and loved. She presses her whiskered nose to my palm tenderly as I look into her eyes, hoping she knows she can trust us. She can trust me.

“Hey there girl. You're alright.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes and this turned out longer than I expected. I had other things to add to this chapter but oh well :')

Today it was back to doing the ever so mundane chores around camp, conversing with the other girls whenever we got the chance and when we knew Grimshaw wouldn't scold us for not doing work.  
Dutch was the leader of the gang, but Grimshaw kept everything running, kept everyone in line when doing the daily duties within the camp. God forbid anyone that crossed her, whether she thought us girls were taking our sweet time or the guys lacking in keeping up with their personal hygiene, she wouldn't go easy, even on her good days.  
Thankfully I haven't been on the receiving end of her fury, well, not yet anyway.   
When supper was ready in the evening and all chores were done, I thought it best to take a bowl over to the poor boy they had tied to a tree when I arrived. Kieran, his name is, apparently one of the O’Driscoll boys. Although he didn't seem like the type that would run with them, given the information I had been given regarding the rival gang.  
Kieran was now able to wander the camp, under the watchful eye of the others that saw him with nothing but contempt. He wouldn't get fed if it wasn't for us ladies.  
He kept himself busy with the horses most of the time, they wouldn't hurt or insult him after all.  
I approached him with a hot bowl, disturbing him as he brushed through The Counts mane, the beautiful white Arabian belonging to Dutch.  
Handing him the bowl he looked to me with hesitation, a few seconds passing by before he reached out to retrieve it. 

“Don't worry, me nor the stew bite.” 

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Bella”

“...Miss Bella. I hope you won't get a tellin’ for giving me this. Some of the other girls have.”

“Ya gotta eat. Besides, I'd give them a tallin’ back if they do.” He smiles slightly, finally taking a spoonful of the stew. 

“How's my girl doing then?” walking over to my mare, stroking her nose and getting a playful nudge to the palm. 

“She's a bit feisty sometimes but she's a good one. Does she have a name?”

A name. There's a lot of meaning in a name. I'd need something strong, something steadfast and with purpose. She's feisty but that means she knows what she wants. She seems the type that will set her mind to something and be determined to get it, like a hunter.   
Looking up to the darkening sky, clouds clearing to present itself with the most beautiful array of blues and blacks, adorned with tiny kisses of light. 

“Orion.” I say with a point, keeping my eyes on the constellations above.   
“After the hunter in the stars. Yeah, I quite like that.” I look back down as she nudges me again, looking for any sweet treats I may have on my person. I give her another rub on her nose before turning back, giving a bye to Kieran as I make my way back to the stew pot.

After everyone had ate and the sun had fallen beyond the horizon most of the camp gathered around the main fire to share a few drinks. Arthur and Lenny decided to head into town for a few drinks instead, promising they will be back in a few hours and to keep out of trouble. Hosea gave them a doubtful look, reminding them that they were laying low.  
Pearson shared a few stories of his time in the Navy, everyone listening as they drank.  
Abigail soon retired to bed with a tired Jack in her arms, bidding everyone a goodnight.   
Couple of bottles later, Hosea was now the one to share stories. Ones of gripping heists and hilarious cons they carried out many years ago before the gang grew into what it is today.  
Laughter shared amongst everyone over the fire, rising into the air with the smoke.  
Before the alcohol could hit me in a way I would regret in the morning, I left the others to their merry stories and drunken tales. Curling up on the bedroll I let the distant chatter lull me to sleep. 

…

By Morning I was woken by Karen, snaking me side to side, willing to awake with a loud whisper. 

“What's wrong Karen?”

“Them two idiots must have got themselves locked up last night. Come with me to get them out?”

“Why me?” Sitting up I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked to her, confused.

“The others are too hungover or are still asleep.”

“Okay, just give me a moment to get sorted.”

“Wear something instead of pants.” She ordered before walking off.

I did as instructed, donning a simple collared white blouse, sleeves stopping just past the elbow. Blue skirt and blank belt to tie it all together as one.   
Meeting Karen at the horses we decided to take Arthurs and Lennys horses, given that they chose to walk to Valentine last night. 

It didn't take long to get to Valentine, the town quickly waking up and going about its usual business. Men tending to their livestock and other men drunkenly stumbling home, or wherever they went to sleep off the alcohol.   
We made our way through the mud ridden street, stopping outside the Saloon to hitch the horses.

“You a good lier?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't want to risk the Sheriff or a Deputy noticing me. You go in and pretend you're a close relative of those fools. Flash that smile and flutter your eyes at the guy. Persuade him to release them for little to no cost.”

“Would he really fall for that?”

She began to ponder for a few seconds, thinking of something that will be easy and would with minimum effort“Do you have a ring?”

“No. I sold mine.”

“Here, take one of mine. Play as a disgruntled wife that is getting sick of her husbands' shenanigans. Sweet talk him.” She said, removing one of her rings, a dainty gold band and handing it out towards me,

“You mean flirt with a lawman?”

“Sure. He's a man it will be easy.”  
She could see I wasn’t unsure about this whole thing. Sure I know how to lie. Quickly learning a few weeks after being married then keeping it up for months. It was one thing to lie to that bastard and random people that didn't matter, but to lie to the law, well, that's something I didn't want to involve myself with.

“If he somehow finds out who they are and the bounties they have it will take a lot more than this to get them out.”   
With that I took the ring from her that was still in her outstretched hand, fitting it snugly onto my finger before turning away towards the Sheriff's building, leaving Karen with the horses and without another word. Seems like lying to the law is just something I'm going to have to get used to. Lucky for them I'm a good liar. 

Standing outside of the door I inhaled deeply, putting on a slight scowl and pushing the door open.   
I didn't pay any mind to the man sat at the desk, instead making my way to the cells. Arthur and Lenny were in separate cells, the latter awake and looking very sorry for himself. He looked up, blinking a few times to make sure he was seeing correctly, shaking my head at him before turning to the man that was trying to get my attention while still sat at the desk.   
It wasn't the Sheriff, just a Deputy, a young one. This should be easy. 

“I can only apologise for whatever trouble my husband and his friend caused Deputy” 

“A pair of drunken fools starting fights they are.” 

“It seems my husband won't accept that he has a low tolerance when it comes to whiskey. I hope it wasn't too serious.”

“We have a low tolerance for violent drunkards in this town miss.”

Placing my hands onto the table and swaying myself towards him slightly to minimise the distance between us and ignoring the chatter behind me as I looked down at my hands “I’m really at the end of my whits with him. Why couldn't I have married a decent man? I hope he didn't cause you trouble when bringing him in. Although... he might be a big oaf I’m sure you would have no trouble against him”

“Well, it didn't take much to fling him in that cell.”

“I bet you're used to more dangerous and violent bad guys huh? Your girl must get so worried knowing what sort of monsters you have to deal with.”

“I have no girl to call my own miss.”

Moving to sit partly on the desk, giving him a delicate smile and keeping my attention on the boy below.   
“Really? Any woman would be lucky to have a brave, principled man like yourself. Instead of a fool that spends all their money on drink and can't even handle it. A man that can take care of a town knows how to take care of his lady.” 

“Bella” Arthur calls

“I’m not speaking with you!” I didn't look away, keeping my eyes locked with the young deputy, faintly trembling in his seat. Leaning over towards him, now peering at him through my lashes and lowering my voice for just him to hear.   
“I promise these idiots won't be any more trouble for you, But if they even cause the slightest disturbance...I'm willing to be punished personally for it.” I smirked at him then licking my lips and leaning over his desk to the point I could feel his quickening breaths on my face. He was frozen in place, looking to me like a cornered doe. Without faltering eye contact I shot him a wink, breaking him out of the trance. Breaking away from the intense eye contact he fumbled with the keys attached to his belt.

The keys rattled in his hands faintly as he went to open the cell doors.   
I blessed the stars that it was a naive deputy I faced instead of the Sheriff. It could have gone completely different and not as smoothly if it had been.

Leading the boys outside without a word to them, I turned to the Deputy as I approached the door, fiddling with the knob so plainly with delicate fingers.   
“Thank you. I will remember to hopefully repay you some time.” Shooting him a wink I walked out the door before he could say a word.

What a sad site they were. Lenny vomited on himself once outside and Arthur was sat leaning against the post. Both unable to open their eyes properly as the morning light burned and made their heads throb.

“I’m just gunna have a little sit-down and...feel sorry for myself” 

“Oh no you ain't. You and a few others have to go rescue that Sean fella.”   
He grumbled as I stood beside him, waving off Lenny who had been found by Karen, both of them setting off back to camp.

“What happened last night?” 

“Don't remember.”

I huffed at that. Alcohol does one hell of a job on folk.   
I pulled him up, steadying him on his feet before practically dragging him to his horse, deciding that I would sit up front to take us back to camp. 

Javier, Charles, Arthur and Trelawny were the ones going to rescue Sean, who was being held at Blackwater. Everyone was on edge for their safe arrival, none of them wanted to be anywhere near Blackwater right now.  
It was late afternoon before the beat of hooves could be heard coming up the path.   
Javier had returned with a loud Irishman at his back.  
The camp ran to meet the two, thankful for Sean's safe return and Sean replied with a shout about needing a strong drink or five.   
The camp's whole demeanour was flipped on its head in a matter of minutes with crates of beer and whiskey being pulled from Pearson's wagon and placed around the fire. It was time to celebrate.   
Arthur and Charles arrived as the first bottles were being passed around and opened, everyone collecting around the fire.   
Dutch gave some words on how happy he was that Sean was finally back and safe and everyone was soon talking merrily. Javier retrieving his guitar and some joined in on his song.   
Sean shared stories of his capture, though obviously exaggerated. Hands waving in the air for dramatic effect. Karen sat closely by his side.  
Arthur came to sit in the space between me and Sadie with a bottle in hand. Looking between him and the bottle he just shrugged. It seemed the rescue mission helped him get over his hangover. 

“And who is this lady?” Sean bellowed as he approached.

“Annabelle, but you can call me Bella.” I smiled up at him, raising my hand for him to shake,

“Well, well. It is my pleasure miss Bella” He took my hand but instead of shaking it as I expected he pressed his lips to the back.   
“Where did they find you then?”

“Long story. Arthur helped me escape a less than ideal situation I would say”

“Swept up another high society lady hey Arthur”

“Shut it, Sean”   
Sean raised his hands in mock defeat at that.

“Just jesting Englishman. But I would love to know how you do it. I'd say she's prettier than the last. Hopefully a bit wilder.” Sean began to back away, hands still in the air but with a grin on his face. 

“I wish I left you hanging from that tree.”

I couldn't help but laugh slightly, pursing my lips together to stop as Arthur looked at me with disgust that I would even entertain the Irishman.

The drinks went quickly throughout the night. Everyone singing, Uncle breaking out his banjo and others got up to dance.  
The alcohol was starting to take effect on me too, despite telling myself to only have a couple. It was obvious that everyone needed this. Needed some good news and a reason to celebrate. 

Abigail and Jack were the first to leave even though Jack was very much awake and enjoying the liveliness around him.  
As the moon got higher and the night was truly set, one by one people stumbled to their tents or bedrolls. Leaving only a handful of us around the fire, sharing stories of alcohol-fueled shenanigans they got up to over the years. I had none to contribute, seeing as this was the drunkest I have ever been.   
I was dizzy and euphoric at the same time. My balance was unsteady and I felt like I was spinning even while seated. My body felt lighter, more at ease. Any worries I had were gone and buried. Living in the joy of the moment.   
Arthur and Sadie and I sat in front of the log instead of on it as we all progressively got more inebriated. The log keeping us upright and more stable.  
The fire before us began to die down as the celebrations did, the rest going to bed.   
Just Arthur and I left around the dying fire, still supping what little was left of the bottles in our hands.  
I didn't want to sleep, I wanted the celebrations and singing to carry on till daybreak. But my eyes started to feel heavy.

“How was the rescue?” I slurred, turning to Arthur

“Fine. Didn’t die.” His accent even thicker thanks to his drunken state.

I exhaled a laugh and a loud snort followed. My hand shot up to cover my mouth, basically slapping myself in the face, eyes wide at the noise I just made. Arthur looked at me wide-eyed also, equally taken back. He began to laugh, I soon followed. The two of us giggling into the night.   
My eyes were getting heavier and heavier by the minute, along with my body quickly losing its feather-light feeling. Moving myself I leaned into the log, resting my head on my hands upon it. In my current state, this was more comfort than any plush bed could provide. Before I knew it my eyes were closed, sleep overtaking me.


	9. Chapter 9

The strong, bitter smell of coffee filled my nose and woke me. My back aches and eyes sting when trying to open them. The faint morning glow stabbing the back of my eyes.  
A noise from beside me wakes me further. That's when I realised I was laying against something apart from the log at my back. Opening my eyes I'm met with the smouldering fire ahead and Arthur laying right beside me, my head against his shoulder and his head propped up against mine.  
Arthur stirs and Pearson comes into view, adding a few more sticks to the fire and checking the coffee pot.   
Groaning from the intense headache and pain in my neck as I sit up, waking Arthur fully as I do so.

“Morning folks. Coffee is ready, no doubt y'all need it.” Pearson grins at us as he pours the coffee into two tin cups.

I look to Arthur, hungover evident in his features as he scowls and lets out a groan.  
We look at each other, smiling shyly and slightly embarrassed at the whole situation.   
Pearsons hands us the steaming cups and we murmur our thanks, not even prepared to move ourselves from the floor.   
We sipped our coffee in silence for a few minutes. Wishing for the intense headache to subside soon and hoping the unease in my stomach won't be the alcohol trying to make an appearance.

“I wanna die” I murmur into my cup

“Me too.” Arthur murmurs back

“I’ve never been that drunk. Does it always hurt like this?”

“More or less” He takes another sip of his coffee

I groan, wondering if this feeling is going to last all day. If so, today is going to be fun, to say the least. I’d love nothing more than to curl up on some bear hides and sleep till dusk. 

We sit in silence for a while, as the others slowly wake, some looking just as much of a sorry state as we do.  
After our second cup Dutch calls for Arthur from his tent and he leaves with a groan to see what he wants.   
I stayed seated on the floor, not daring to get up as every movement inflicted some variant of ache and the threat of my stomach emptying its contents. 

“You look worse than I feel” That Irish tone appeared from nearby at the fire. Sean pouring himself a cup. 

“I’m trying not to vomit.” I grinned weakly as I looked up to him. He nodded in understanding, sitting on a crate nearby. 

“So, tell me more about how your Knight in shining armour saved you.”

I couldn't help but giggle, my hand shooting to my stomach to ease the sudden and threatening twinge.

“My husband is one mean bastard…”

“You're married?”

“Unfortunately. Arthur, Dutch and Hosea were in the process of robbing him. I got caught up in it. Got out of the gunfight that ensued and asked, well, begged him to take me somewhere else. Passed out due to a few broken ribs and woke up here.”

“Damn what a shit show. You got somewhere you'll be moving onto, or will you be staying with this bunch of degenerates?” 

I look around the camp, everyone now up and preparing for the day. Little Jack playing with a bunch of flowers, tongue out in concentration. Abigail watching over him as she collected clothing to be washed.   
Hosea and Lenny sat at the table playing what looks to be a very competitive game of dominoes.   
Pearson preparing today's breakfast at the food wagon.  
Sadie sat on a rock at the edge of the overlook, taking in the views and seemingly lost in thought as the morning sun beams down onto her.  
Mary-Beth and Tilly stitching garments in their hands, sharing a few laughs between them.   
Javier sat on his bedroll sharpening and cleaning one of his knives, all his attention on the task in hand.   
Strauss with his book in hand, that thing seems to be in his grasp as often as a bottle is in Uncles.   
Arthur stood at Dutches tent, talking about whatever jobs that need doing or what their next move should be to gain more money no doubt. Dutch is rambling on as Arthur listens, hands resting upon his gun belt, nodding along to whatever Dutch is saying to him every so often. 

“I think I’ll stay.” I say unsure if I was answering Sean’s question or telling myself. 

\------

After a few hours of chores and making myself busy around camp, the hangover slowly began to ease. The distraction and the emptying of my stomach by one of the trees in the outskirts definitely helped. It was at that moment I vowed never to drink that excessively again. Lesson learned. 

I sat with Jack, watching him play with his two wooden horse toys. He was bored and Abigail had become restless with his constant need for attention and questions so I was doing my best to entertain him to give her a few moments of peace and to complete whatever tasks Miss Grimshaw had asked her to do. 

Watching Jack as he played out the story he imagined for his little horses Arthur came over to us. A slight smile on his face as he watched the boy play contently.

“Whatchu up to?”

“Playing”

“Anything fun?”

“I guess”

“You wanna come fishing with me?”

“Fishing?”

“Sure. It’s about time that you started to earn your keep.”

“Okay.”

“Good. Go get your pole then. You do have a fishing pole don't you?”

“I sure do! Uncle Hosea made me one.” Jack stood, little horses and their story now forgotten about in the dirt.

“Well go get it then. Let’s catch us some fish.” 

“Yeah!” He almost shouted, running off into the direction of his tent.

We both watched as he went with a little skip in his step. Excited about having something new and different to do.

“You, er, wanna come with?” Arthur said, going through his satchel to pull out his cigarettes. Lifting one to his mouth and then lighting a match with the bottom of his boot.

“Sure. I don't have a pole though. But I could catch a few rabbits or something while there.”

He nodded then made his way over to his horse, giving him a brush down while he waited for me and Jack.

Thankfully we didn't need to go far from camp as the Dakota river was only a minute ride away.   
Jack sat in front of Arthur and I kept up beside them listening to their conversation. Asking if Jack was feeling better from recently being ill and Jack mentioning a storybook he left back at the camp in Blackwater. 

We all dismounted at the riverside, the two boys making their way to the water to ready their poles as I readied my bow.   
Telling them I won't be far before making my way towards the gathering of trees nearby but far enough away from the dirt roads that noise shouldn't be an issue.  
It didn't take long to find a few Black-Tailed Rabbits hanging around the area, as well as a few squirrels running through the bushes and up the trees.

I knelt in an area void of sticks or piles of dead leaves, skimming my eyes over land ahead of me, waiting for that unsuspected rabbit to place itself in my line on sight. 

Four rabbits later I returned to the boys at the river. Jack now sat nearby, flowers in his hands and a pile at his feet. A child that age doesn't seem to have the attention span for something like Fishing, something that takes a little patience. We should have known he would have gotten bored of it quickly. 

“Catch many?”

“Uncle Arthur has!”

I smiled at Jack and walked over to Arthur who was currently battling a fish as we speak.

“Can I borrow your knife to skin these? I still don't have one.” I said as I held up my catch.

“Sure. It's on my belt.” He pulled on the rod, seeming to get frustrated that this stubborn fish wouldn't give up.

I sat a little aways from Jack, glancing over to see him delicately chain each little red flower together. His tongue sticking out from intense concentration.

For a few moments, it was quiet and peaceful as I skinned and salvaged the usable meat. Arthur muttering praises then whispered curses to the fish he finally reeled onto dry land. Holding them up to get a good look before throwing the back into the river. 

“Hey, look at this.” Jack proclaims, holding up the completed chain of red flowers as far as his little arms to reach.

“At what?” Arthur says, kneeling in front of Jack to see his creation.

“This necklace I made.”

“Necklace?” 

“For Momma. I made one for you too Miss Bella.” He grabbed another chain of red flowers from his side, handing it over to me.”

Putting down the knife and rubbing my bloodied hands on my pants I then reached out to take it. A smile beaming on my face and heart swelling twice its size at this adorable and thoughtful gift.   
“Thank you, Jack. It’s beautiful.” I place the necklace over my head for it to lay around my neck as delicately as possible. Worried that I might pull it apart accidentally. Thankfully I don't. A necklace like this is more valuable than any gold or jewels and should be treated as such. 

In these few moments, we are seemingly so distracted by what is going on that none of us noticed two men appear nearby on horses until one of them speaks.

“What a fine young man…” One man says as he strides towards us, dressed in fine clothing. Bowler upon his head and a badge on his lapel.  
“And in such complex circumstances. Arthur, isn't it? Arthur Morgan?”

The other man dismounts his horse and cocks his rifle. Not saying a word but striding towards us too. Weapon rested on his shoulder. A badge adorning his lapel also. 

The three of us stand to the attention of these unwanted strangers. Arthur ushering Jack to stand behind him.  
“Who are you?” Arthur says, an air of confusion and wariness in his voice

“Yes, Arthur Morgan. Van der Linde’s most trusted associate. You've read the files, typical case, orphaned street kid seduced by that maniac's silver tongue and matures into a degenerate murderer.” He turns to his friend beside him, both nodding in agreement. 

“Agent Milton. Agent Ross. Pinkerton Detective Agency seconded to the United States Government.” They finally introduce themselves, taking slow but sure steps closer towards us.   
My heart starts racing, cursing myself for leaving my gun back at camp. I look down to the knife still on the floor beside me along with the rabbit remains. I’m sure Arthur could deal with them himself if it came to it but with Jack here it was too much of a risk. There is no way I could bend down to pick it up now with both their beady eyes on us, watching our every move. If I went for it when and if shooting started that would leave Jack more in the open and more at risk. Instead, I keep it in my sights and hope it doesn't come to that.

“Nice to finally meet. We know a lot about you.”

“Do ya?”

“You’re a wanted man, Mr Morgan. Five thousand dollars for your head alone.”

“Five thousand dollars? For me? Can I turn myself in?”

“We want Van der Linde.”

“Old Dutch? I haven't seen him for months.”

“That so? Because I heard a guy fitting his description robbed a train belonging to Leviticus Cornwall up near Granite Pass.”

“Oh, ain’t that a little old fashioned nowadays?” He huffs a laugh.

“Apparently not. Listen, this is my offer, Mr Morgan. Bring in Van der Linde and you have my word, you won’t swing.”

“Oh, I ain’t gonna swing anyways Agent, um…”

“Milton.”

“You see, I haven’t done anything wrong aside from not play the games to your rules.”

“Spare me the philosophy lesson, I've already heard it. From Mac Callander.”

“Mac Callander?”

“He was pretty shot up by the time I got to him so really it was more of a mercy killing. Slow. But merciful.”

Arthur fling the pole he was still holding to the ground, losing his composure but still trying to keep some sort of calm when given this information. His fists balling at his sides but keeping one close to the holster at his side.   
Jack jumps and gasps at the sudden outburst so I grab his shoulder with one hand to gently guide him to stand behind me.

“You enjoy being a rich man's toy do ya!?” There is a low growl to his voice, fury slowly pooling out with every word.

“I enjoy society, flaws and all. You people venerate savagery and you will die savagely! All of you.” The Agent gets up closer to Arthur, pointing his finger in his face to try and be imposing towards the man that is twice his size and could possibly snap him like a twig.

“ Oh, we're all gonna die, Agent”

“Some of us sooner than others. Good day, Mr Morgan.”  
With that, he turns and walks away. It wasn't till now that I realised the other Agent had his rifle up and aimed at Arthur and by the looks of it, Arthur might not have noticed either as he kept his eyes on the one now with his back turned.  
The other man starts to back away keeping his eyes on us but slowly lowering his weapon to the ground. 

“Enjoy your fishing kid. While you still can.” It's all he says before turning as well. Both of them mounting their horses and riding off. Neither I or Arthur took our eyes off the two men until they were clearly out of sight. 

“Who were they?” A little voice pulls us back, Jack now moving from behind us. 

“No one to worry about, no one at all. Come on, let’s pack up your things and get home.” Arthur places his hands on Jack to steer him away. All of us collecting our belongings and mounting up as quickly as possible.

My heart began to slow as we mounted and made our way back but I had questions and it seemed Jack had a few too.  
He has a bounty on his head? And five thousand dollars no less? It can't be true. How would he get a bounty of that sum? I was told by Mary-Bath that they all lived near Blackwater before having to leave quickly but she never said why. I never had a reason to ask.  
I always knew travellers and outlaws moved from place to place quite frequently and some were known to be right bastards that needed to be hanged for the horrific crimes they committed but...this gang ain't like those, they don't hurt and kill for the simple fun of it.  
Maybe I should ask him at some point. My logic being if I am to stay and live amongst them I should know what to say or how to act if the Pinkertons come around again. I should know what I’m truly getting myself into.

We made it back to camp quickly, Arthur looking around us momentarily to make sure we had not been followed.   
He let down Jack before dismounting and making his way over to Dutch with urgency. 

Whatever questions I have, they could wait for now.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning was blissfully quiet, everyone going about their business and doing camp chores as per usual.   
Sitting with Mary-Beth, hand deep in laundry buckets overflowing with soapy water I couldn't help but wonder why there wasn't a sense of urgency after the meeting with those Pinkertons yesterday. With how worried Arthur seemed I was under the impression it was a serious matter that would need to be dealt with in some way. Maybe they were used to this happening, maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal as I perceived it to be.

“Do you read, Miss Bella?” Mary-Beth asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

“Sure. Used to always read as a kid.”

“Any of those being romance and love stories? Those are my favourite to read.”

“A few. Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Madame Bovary, although that one is tragic in the end.” I wring out a shirt covered in dirt and even blood from a recent stagecoach job a few of the men went on. I didn't even want to ask whose blood it was. Scrunching my nose in slight disgust and plunging the shirt back into the water to work at it some more.

“I’ve written a few little stories of my own, hoping to write a novel someday.” She smiled sheepishly to me then looking back down to the bucket. Violently scrubbing at something that must also look in the same state as the shirt currently in my hands.

“Haven’t you ever thought of leaving and making a true love story of your own?” I shift my legs from below me to sit more comfortably. The knife I hadn’t yet given back to Arthur after being at the lake slightly stabbing into my ankle from its position in my boot.

“I have once or twice. It’s too dangerous for us ladies being out in the world alone. I don’t know where I would be if Dutch and Hosea didn’t find me a few years ago.”

“What happened?” I look at her now. I had a genuine curiosity when it came to knowing these peoples stories and how they all came together. They all had lives I would only ever hear about in storybooks or newspapers so being a part of their lives and this merry band of fools was still rather surreal to me. Like one of those dreams that feel so real until you woke up, only I hoped I wouldn’t wake from this due to the fear of waking up back in that house, Frank at my side

“I was getting chased by a few men I had stolen from. I’m a damn good pickpocket but I must have got a bit too confident. Dutch and Hosea saw and helped me get away with them.”

I shot her a smile, both of us continuing with our tasks before Miss Grimshaw made her rounds and scolds us for slacking.

By mid-afternoon when some sense of quiet had fallen within the camp, I made my way to the edge of the camp, sitting upon a rock and looking out over the overlook, coffee in hand. My fingers still shrivelled up, resembling raisins from the seemingly never-ending laundry this morning.

“Not thinking of jumping again are you?” Arthur pulls me from my thoughts as he approaches. 

“Not funny. Besides, why would I jump when I have a gun in my possession now?”

He huffs at that, coming over to stand beside me and pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his satchel. Lighting one with a match strike to the rock I was sat on.

“You okay after yesterday?”

“Yeah, just,” I bite my lip, thinking of the right words to say “Is nothing going to be done about it? Seems like a serious issue.”

“Dutch says he’s dealing with it.”

I hum at this, trusting his word on the matter.

“Busy today?” I ask, taking a brief sip of my coffee, feeling it flow down my throat and burn slightly.

“Well, had to collect some debt not far from here on behalf of Strauss. Fella was dead already.”

“Have you told Strauss that you didn’t get the money?”

“Nah not yet. Should have forced it from the widow but I couldn’t. Might be legal work but it don’t sit right with me,”

“How so?” 

“Robbing banks and stealing from rich folk is one thing, they have all the money they need while others starve. Strauss picks out those that are starving, those with nothing.”

“Don’t do it then.” I shrug, seemingly pointing out the obvious.

“We need the money.” He shrugs too, taking a drag and blowing out the plume of smoke.

“So do they. Help people as need helping. That’s what you said to me.”

“Ain’t that simple.” he huffs again, this time in frustration.

“I’m still not accustomed to your way of life yet. But, I do have a few questions.”

“Shoot.”

“Five thousand dollars. How on earth did you get a bounty that high?”

“Numerous things. Robberies, killings, hostages.”

“Oh, I’m familiar with that one.” I nod before turning to face him. Arthur swaying slightly with a hand resting on his gun belt before continuing.

“Being Dutchs’ main gun, so they call me, is probably a reason too. I wasn’t involved with the job in Blackwater but my name was mentioned regardless.” He takes another drag before flicking the stub out over the edge.

“What happened in Blackwater?” I ask, my coffee now cooling and long-forgotten, still in the clutches on my hands and perched on my lap.   
And so he told me of what happened. That he had a job with Hosea that seemed like it would work out fine without needing to rob a ferry full of bank money. That the robbery turned into a massacre, swarmed by Pinkertons with no way but to shoot their way out and everyone fleeing for the hills. The hushed words of Dutch killing an innocent woman.   
Having to escape from Blackwater and the Great Plains and up into the deadly icy mountains, losing most of their possessions, all their money and a few members along the way. Then they ended up here, trying to lay low until they had enough money to leave again.

That’s why they planned to rob Frank. Strike up a false business deal and then take what he had at the party all those weeks ago. It was risky but with being so far from Saint Denis they thought it would be worth a shot. They are desperate. 

“I know plenty of rotten rich folk. If any opportunity comes up for you to rob them. I’m more than happy to give over whatever information I have.”

“Really? You would help us to rob your fancy friends?”

“They ain’t my friends. Like I said, some of them are rotten and deserve it.”

“Sure.”

There were a few moments of silence as he shifted on his feet again. I turned back to the view ahead and then down to the cold cup in my hands, huffing as I flung the liquid out onto the grass at my feet. Might as well get another cup.

“I best go see what John wants in town.” 

I nodded with a smile and with that he left and made his way to the horses. Giving his horse a few gentle pats on the neck before mounting up and leaving camp towards Valentine. 

Sitting with Abigail and Tilly at the fire a few hours later, laughing amongst ourselves and sharing a bottle of whiskey, enjoying the easy day it had been. That was until rumbling hoof beats came thundering down the eastern path. Dutch, John and an injured Strauss shouting for everyone to get started on packing up the camp now.  
Dutch made his way to his tent, Hosea following in quickly behind him. 

With the sudden sense of urgency, everyone stood and started gathering whatever they could around the camp, preparing wagons and disassembling tents. I didn’t really know what to do, so I sought out Grimshaw for orders as she was swiftly moving about the camp, making sure everyone was doing something. She soon presented me with one, helping Pearson pack up the food wagon and to make sure nothing is left behind. I turned on my heels and made a beeline towards the wagon in question wondering what the hell had happened for us to be moving so quickly. Questions for later I told myself as I helped Pearson empty water barrels and pack up all food wares.

It wasn’t long until everything was packed up, evidence that this had been done probably a few times in the past. 

Dutch had us all follow him in the front wagon, telling us all of a place that has been cleared out for us thanks to Charles and Arthur. I mounted Orion instead of sitting in a wagon with the other girls, staying close behind everyone as we made our way.

The new camp sat right by Flat Iron Lake and it didn’t take long to reassemble everything again. Everything back up and running by nightfall.

The next morning everyone seemed to be woken by the brightness dawn brought upon us but the heat that Lemoyne was known for. Everyone was already sweating and agitated, although that agitation could also be down to having to run once again. Getting themselves into more trouble and some worried that it was going to be simply impossible to get themselves out of this hole they are digging for themselves. They believed Dutch would get them all to brighter pastures. A blind loyalty that hasn't failed them before.  
We were all filled in on the goings-on the day before by word of mouth. A shootout with Cornwalls men, John and Strauss lucky to get out with their lives if it wasn't for Dutchs’ way with words and Arthurs’ way with guns.

A few others planned on heading into the town nearby, Rhodes. To get a feel of the place and scope out any potential jobs or leads. Karen and I sat in the wagon, Arthur and Charles upfront as we made our way to the new town with new possibilities. I had mentioned a previous visit to Rhodes to sell a few horses to the Braithwait family that live nearby. 

Once at the dusty town of Rhodes, a thankful change from a soiled and shit foul town of Valentine, we all decided to split. Arthur and Charles made their way to the station, Karen towards the parlour house and I made my way to the general store.   
We were under strict orders not to ask too many questions to prevent bringing any unwanted attention to ourselves. Strangers turning up to this small town asking strange questions would spread quickly here.   
Three men sat on the stairs of the store, making my way past them without a second thought and entering the small store. A chime above the door alerting the owner as I made my way inside.   
The place didn't have much but it had the basic necessities. Sauntering around I took in what they had. Coffee, salted meat, tinned fruit, fresh produce, a few tonics and...chocolate bars. The corners of my mouth lifted in a bright smile at the sight of something sweet, oh it had been a good while since I had chocolate and I'm sure $2 for one bar would be worth it.   
I picked up a bar and a box of oatcakes for Orion, swiftly making my way to the counter to ring up my purchases. 

I exchanged pleasantries with the owner, a thin man with sparse hair on his head but an impressively large moustache. He asked if I was staying in town long when the door charm rang out behind me. I paid no mind to the various footsteps I could hear instead y attention was caught when one cleared their throat, prompting me to turn to face them.   
It was the three men previously sat outside, their attention solely on me.

“You look awfully familiar, Miss” One man said with a slight Irish accent from what I could tell.

“I’m new to town. Just passing through.” I smile slightly 

“A lady shouldn’t be passing through town on her own.” Another man said, stood by the door.

“Oh, I’m not…”

“Why don't you come with us?” The first man drawled, taking slow but confident steps towards me. Instinctively I moved back each time he made a step forwards, quickly being stopped by the serving counter digging into my back.

“I...I assure you gentlemen I am... not alone” I stuttered, my eyes swiftly looking towards the windows in the hopes someone, anyone, would make their way over.

“I don't see anyone else here. You're coming with us, missy.” With that, he lurched forward to grab my arms. His grip digging into my flesh as I tried helplessly to push him off. Mentally scolding myself for not bringing my gun with me.

“Get off me!” I squealed, my thrashing no use as one of the other men appeared beside me, tying a cloth around my head and pushing the fabric into my mouth to quell my protests. A black sack following soon after to cover my full head.   
I trashed as hard as I could, kicking the man still gripping my arms so hard I'll for sure be left with bruises. 

“You're making this worse for yourself, missy. And you... say a word of this to anyone and this place will be burned to the ground with you in it!” With that, they began to drag me away through what must have been through the back door, away from the main street.   
My hand got tied together swiftly, the rope burning into my flesh and tears burning down my face.   
Trying to pull back was useless, digging my heels into the dry dirt a weak attempt to escape their relentless grasps. Hauling me up and onto the back of a horse, the three men laughed as they mounted. Taking me away to god knows where to do god knows what to me.

“Any funny business and I’ll punch seven shades of shit outta you. Give you something to cry about.” The man whose horse I was upon shouted back towards me, thundering hoofbeats ringing out in my ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oohhh serious shit is happening. 
> 
> I'm not that happy with the beginning with this chapter and it took me a while to get it all out. I'm just wanting to get into the action!!  
> If you see any mistakes or places I could improve don't be shy to tell me :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning here folks, this chapter contains violence and attempted sexual assault/rape. I've put * where it starts and finishes, it's not graphic but it is implied so if you want to skip that section you can. 
> 
> Also, I did post this chapter already but left out a detail I've been wanting to put in since before writing it lmao.

Chapter 11

The minutes that passed felt like hours or maybe it had been hours since these men took me. With no idea which direction they were going, I tried desperately to hear my surroundings for some clue to where I currently was, the busy sounds of a nearby town perhaps? Maybe the call of local birds that habited certain states. I couldn’t hear anything apart from the rush of hooves and a body of water that was crossed. My body aching from the constant movement. Not to mention I was flung over the back of this horse like a dead buck. All I could hope for was that one of the others saw me being taken, that they were following not far behind. Either that or the hope that whatever they were needing me for would have a swift ending, no matter what ending that would be. I doubted but hoped. Hope was all I had on me.

The horses came to a slow and then stopped, other voices could be heard in the distance.   
I was dragged off the horse and carried. Squirming in the man’s relentless grasp done nothing as he took me inside a building and then dropping me in a heap on the floor.   
My wrists burned as I tried to pull myself up to sit, pushing myself back with my feet till my back hit a wall.   
I heard a faint giggle before the hood was pulled off. Squinting at the sudden brightness before making out two figures stood before me, towering. Their rotten teeth showing through their sickening smirks.

“You gunna behave? Be a good little girl for us?” The larger man said as he crouched in front of me.   
I couldn’t will any words to escape, tears staining my cheeks and my whole body shaking in fear.

“Look, she’s shaking like a little rabbit.” The man laughed, causing the other man to cackle.  
“I like it when they are scared.” He continued, lifting his hand to my soaked cheek

“Don’t touch me!” It was nothing more than a squeak despite trying my best to sound intimidating. The man laughed again.

“She does speak,” He proceeded to remove his hand from my face and onto my knee “I wonder w-” I didn’t give him a chase to finish as I brought my knee up and kicked him in the chest, causing him to fall back slightly.   
His eyes changed to one of fury. The man behind him with his hand now hovering over his holstered pistol.   
Before I could react the man stood up, breathing heavily. His boot then connected with my head, toppling me over onto my side in a heap, crying out in pain.   
Another kick, this time to my gut, screaming out again in my haze, the corners of my vision going blurry. A feeling of trickling cooling liquid falling across my face as my vision got darker and darker. 

\---

The general store owner in Rhodes didn’t expect to be threatened and then interrogated by two groups of strangers that day. The look of fear on his face as Arthur and Charles entered the store looking for Bella gave it away. But with a gun in his face as he backed up into the corner it didn’t take long for him to reveal that she had been taken by a group of Irish sounding men.   
Arthur and Charles shared a look of understanding before leaving the store in haste. Making their way back to camp to pick up another gun. Three men took her, but there was a possibility there would be more. There was always a pack when O’Driscolls were involved.   
It didn’t take long for Charles to pick up the multiple horse tracks making their way out of Rhodes and heading north towards the Heartlands, then west. The tracks avoided the roads as much as possible, keeping to untouched dirt which made the tracks easier to follow.   
They lost the tracks once they hit the Dakota River. They searched for the continuation of the tracks along the river now on West Elizabeth ground before deciding to search the area more widely. Passing a small cabin with a barn with no one in sight. They pushed on, searching the tree lines and the possibility of another cabin or hideout.   
It was a few hours till they came upon a cabin a bit further north of the river. Hidden by the surrounding trees but a fire visible from afar even in the dying light as the sun began to make its descent beyond the distant mountains.

\---

My head throbbed and pulsed with pain. Opening my eyes I’m met with almost darkness. The sun setting or rising, I had no idea.  
The stench of sweat and iron filled my nose, the distant cheers of drunken men could be heard just beyond the door.  
I tried to sit up again but my legs wouldn't move. I couldn't move them. So I just laid there, my mind going a million miles a second, looking around me for another door or an open window. My heart racing from the realisation that I couldn’t get out of this. Hopeless.   
The one-roomed cabin was in disarray. A table and chairs in the centre, a stove along with a log fire to the left of it. An empty bookcase to the right beside the window and a chest just a few feet to my right. The floor was littered with empty bottles and stains.

The door slammed open, making me jump. The two men from before stumbling their way inside, clearly drunk.   
I was helpless as they made their way over, pulling me upright by my bound arms till I was upright.   
His face so close to mine I could smell the whiskey on his wretched breath. Turning my head away from the stench he grabbed my cheeks, forcing me to face him.

“I gotta punish you properly for kicking me, missy.” He slurred.   
I didn't have time to think before he landed another punch to my gut and then to my face, leaving me no time to recover before bringing his balled-up fist down again. My stomach convulsing and the side of my face throbbing. 

“Tom. He said anywhere but her face.” 

No, no, no.

It couldn’t be.

I wasn’t just a random victim. They knew who I was the second I walked up those steps to the store. 

I tried to pull myself away. My body simultaneously burning with fear and the overwhelming push to do whatever it takes to escape.   
Mustering whatever strength I had left to keep moving, no matter what it took, no matter how much it hurt. Before I could even make it a few feet I was stopped in my tracks with a pull on my scalp, pulling me back and upwards, shouting at the sudden pain from my hair being pulled so harshly.   
His grip not relenting as he continued to pull me away from the wall and further into the centre of the room. Kicking my bound legs frantically as I tried to break free from the burning the pull was causing.  
He hoisted me up onto my feet, his face now in mine and his rancid breath once again in my face as he held onto my hair and my tied wrists.   
That’s when I realised, death would be my only other option. And I’d gladly take it.

Ceasing my movements I looked straight into his face, unable to see anything but sickening joy in his eyes.   
So I spat at him. With a smile on my face and a hope that that would push him to put a few bullets in me.   
But it was fleeting. He wiped his face with the hand previously gripping my wrists then collided his head with mine.   
My legs buckled beneath me, vision blurring, earing ringing and my head throbbing in agony. 

I lost all power within me as I felt another pair of hands on my ankles. The other man cutting the rope. Trying to kick my failing legs I was turned to face him.   
What he said was nothing but incoherent mumbles, my ears filled with deafening ringing.   
He brought the knife to my chest just above my bouse, the pressure so light my nerves didnt sing out in pain.   
Then he sliced down, ripping the layers of cloth along and my flesh. Screaming out as I felt the burning from my sternum to my waist, warm liquid accompanying it.  
Then I was ushed face-first onto the table beside me.  
*  
The buzzing in my ears fading momentarily to hear laugher from the man holding me down as he told the other to get the other boys in line so they can all have a go.   
Then I felt his free hand latch onto the top of my pants, squirming as he began to pull mercilessly. His body covering mine as he pressed me harder and harder into the table.  
Crushing me while his hands roamed over my thighs.   
I was beyond hope, beyond any chance to break free. It seems death only comes to those that don’t wish for it.   
So I gave up the fight, tears flowing freely with my eyes clenched shut. Willing my mind to take me somewhere else till this was over. Willing my body to feel nothing but numb.  
*  
My mind filled with memories of my childhood; secretly getting drunk with my girlfriends in the stables. My brothers teaching me how to climb trees. Me and my father coming home after a successful hunt. My mother delicately brushing though my hair after getting it covered in dirt. The life draining from Franks eyes with Arthurs knife plunged into his chest, my grip on the handle. Waking up at the campfire with my head on Arthurs shoulder.

The clattering sound of a loaded holster hitting the cabin floor pulled me back. But it was the not so distant sounds of gunfire that made my body stiffen again. We both halted as we stared at the door. The consistent sounds relighting the hope that had been extinguished only moments ago. Please let it be them. 

“Shit!” he shouted as the distant shots got louder and louder. Shouts from the men outside quickly quietening one by one. 

Unable to tear my eyes away from the door ahead.

The door burst open with a kick, a silhouette in the fading light now in its place.   
But I couldn’t make out who it was.   
If I knew them.   
If they knew me.

Pulled from the table and further back into the cabin, the mans grip still as brutal as he pulled me backwards and into my knees in front of him.

His staggering breath against the side of my face as we both stared at the figure. My eyes trying to focus. 

The figure raised his pistol as he spoke 

"Let her go." The unmistakable raspy voice spoke out in a sense of calmed urgency. 

A snicker and a low sickening laugh filled my ears   
“Not ‘appening buddy,” he said as a hand wrapped around my throat. Tightening.

“Ya will havta shoot through her to get to me.” he laughed again. 

Another figure emerged at the door with their gun raised and pointed straight at us. 

Opening my mouth to shout or scream, to gasp for air as his hand tightened around my throat. My hands coming up instinctively to claw at his fingers, my lungs screaming for air.   
As I pulled relentlessly I felt a sharp pain in my ankle, not paying any mind as the rest of my body was throbbing and aching. But this pain was sharp, not dull. 

The knife. 

I dropped my hands, reaching for the inside of my boot as quickly as possible and praying he was too preoccupied with the two others slowly making their way forwards into the small cabin.   
Their spurs on the wood floor and my strangled cry for air being the only sound the fill the area.   
I pulled the handle, far enough to grip it completely in both hands.   
My vision, still blurry, now darkening around the edges.   
I pushed myself to the side, letting gravity do the work as I twisted the knife upwards and drove it up beside my head with whatever meagre strength I had left.

Resistance.   
Then the familiar feeling of warm fresh blood covered my hands. 

Dropping to the floor I wheezed for breath, my vision still darkening. Flashes of light and shots the only things that kept me from slipping.

Gentle hands were on me in an instant. Voices gradually fading back and becoming more clear with every burning breath that filled my lungs.

“Bella! Bella, can you hear me?”

“Arthur?” I wheezed

“Yeah darlin it’s me. Yer safe now.”   
He lifted me in his arms then my hands were cut free. All thoughts of my current state and decency out of my mind. My senses still foggy and the overwhelming urge to sleep overcoming me as I tried to keep my eyes open.

“I - I thought-”

“Shh it’s okay,” he soothed, moving some hair out of my face.   
My body groaned in protest as he gently snaked his arms under my legs and lifted me to him as he stood. I didn’t think I’d have the energy to cry again, but the tears flowed freely once more. This time in relief.

“Let’s get you home.”


	12. Chapter 12

I woke to blinding light. Disorientated and panic building as my mind is slow to catch up with where I could be right now. I’m still in the cabin. I can hear the men outside talking amongst themselves, unaware that I’m awake again. I push myself up noticing my hands and legs are free, ignoring the overall ache and searing pain running down my chest. I need to get out. This is my chance. If I could - 

“Hey, hey it’s okay.” A feminine voice calls out beside me, gently placing their hand on my shoulder.  
I look over, glad that my eyes are starting to focus to see Tilly, in her beloved yellow dress.   
Please don’t be a dream.

“Tilly?” I squeak, my voice sounding harsher than it ever has.

“You’re safe. Here,” She passes over a flask of water. The liquid soothing my throat and easing the pounding in my head. Drinking the whole thing before passing it back, murmuring my thanks. 

“I’ll go tell Arthur and Miss Grimshaw that you’re awake.” She says before leaving the tent, the covers over the entrance letting in more daylight, causing the back of my eyes to sting slightly before they closed behind her.   
I’m not even in my tent, not in my bedroll.   
I’m in Arthurs tent. Once again waking up here after passing out. I really need to make sure that doesn’t become a habit of mine.  
Trying to think, all I can remember was being carried out of that cabin, but I can’t even remember reaching the door. I didn't even get to see the aftermath of Johns and Arthurs handiwork. Those mens bodies spewed across the grass. Shame.   
I can’t help but scoff at that thought. If my mother could hear my thoughts on how I wished to see the corpses of the men that harmed me she would turn in her grave for sure. But my brothers would be proud.

The tent flaps opened again, the sting more bearable, as Miss Grimshaw and Arthur made their way in, the former holding a small medicine bottle and some whiskey.

“How are you feeling dear?” Miss Grimshaw asks in a soothing tone I'd only heard before when I first arrived here. A serious case of Déjà vu happening. 

“Like shit. I’m guessing I look it too.” I hum out a quiet laugh. 

“Got you a tonic to fight any infection. And some whiskey for the pain,” She said as she placed the two bottles on the crate next to the cot.   
“I’ll get Pearson to whip something up for you. Then I’ll be back later to change your dressings.”  
I called out my thanks to her as she left, leaving just the two of us.   
Arthur pulled up a chair to sit beside me, picking up the whiskey as he did. 

“Than-”

“I’m s-”

We both spoke at the same time, causing us to huff out a laugh. He gestured for me to go first. 

“Thank you for coming for me,” I said, he looked down to the floor, his hat covering most of his face from view.

“Belle, m’ sorry we didn’t get there earlier. Me, John and Charles tried to-”

“You got there just in time. Before they…” I couldn’t even finish. But I didn't have to, the look on his face told me he knew. He saw the state I was in, the other guys’ intentions were very obvious with his pants halfway down. Thankful now that I wasn’t that far exposed but in the process of stabbing the bastard it was the last thing on my mind.  
My hand went down my chest as I slowly tried to sit up, feeling the layers of cloth that wrapped around my shoulder and waist then across my back through the clothing, which I also just realised are not mine.   
Arthur stood to help me sit, leaning me against the crates behind me. Sitting back down and handing me the now opened bottle of whiskey, drinking as he continued.

“Miss Grimshaw stitched ya up. Said it would probably scar.”   
I nodded and took a drink, feeling it burn as it passed down my throat. I opened my mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the tent opening being pulled back, Dutch now making his way in, his eyes on me.

“Did you talk?” No hello, no how are you feeling...just did I talk? Talk about what exactly?

“Dutch, she's just come round-” Dutch held his hand up to halt Arthur, his eyes still trained on me.

“I need to know. Did. You. Talk?”

“Talk about what?”

“Did you tell them where we are?”

“They didn’t ask anything about you.” I looked between the two men, completely confused as to what he as asking.

“Really?”

“Dutch-”

“I told you. They never mentioned you or camp or anyone here. I don’t even know who those men were.”

“The safety of this gang depends on if you gave away any information to those men. I surely hope you are not lying to me, Mrs Hawthorne.” He spoke slowly and low as if I were a disobedient child that needed to understand every word he said. A quiet threat heard loud and clear.

“I didn’t say a word. They only cared about me. If they are a threat to you all, they never made it known.” I replied back in the same slow tone he gave to me, making sure he understood every word I said.   
I’ve been here for weeks, over 2 months, making myself at home and seeing the others here as a family, my new family. And he thinks I would sabotage the one thing that makes me feel safe? Sure, torture is a good way of getting people to speak, but Dutch doesn’t seem to realise id rather die than be alone, or back with him.

With that another person emerges from the outside, Hosea, he must have heard the raised voices.   
I was on the verge of tears knowing Dutch probably doesn’t believe me, in a way I understand the concern, but I was in pain and the constant dull ache in my head was now throbbing.   
Hosea took one look at us all and motioned Dutch out of the tent, telling him to let me heal and to ask questions later.   
Dutch left without another word, practically stormed out. Hosea was about to speak but I cut in.  
“I promise I never said anything, I don’t even think they knew I’m with you all.”  
Hosea put his hand up to me to stop. Before Hosea could speak a word, Arthur sat forwards, taking my hand in his, stilling my clenching fist in the hopes I would relax.

“I believe you, Bella. Charles and me saw a missing poster of you in Rhodes station. $500 reward. Those guys that took you, they were some of the O’Driscolls. We have a history with them, all bad business.”

“Did the poster mention being able to do whatever they wanted with me but to leave my face untouched?”

“No…”

“Then...I don’t think it was the poster that led them to me. Frank asked them himself.”   
Arthur and Hosea shared a look of disbelief as I cried. Knocking back more whiskey to numb as much of the pain as possible. The realisation of what happened hitting me like a damn train.  
Hosea promised he would talk to Dutch, try and calm him down, and that if I needed anything to not hesitate to ask. 

Arthur stayed with me till nightfall. Answering whatever questions I had about this rival gang and the very colourful history they have with them, especially the leader, Colm.  
We talked about anything else that didn't involve the O’Driscolls or what had happened the day before after that.  
I asked about the photographs he had pinned to the side of the wagon and the two in frames propped up. He spoke fondly about his mother, Beatrice, who passed when he was only a boy. And his dog, Cooper. He even admitted he would bathe with him sometimes. I couldn’t stop laughing, causing him to flush with embarrassment. I assured him it was sweet.  
He didn’t seem to have many kind words when it came to his father, Lyle. Saying he was a no-good man that didn’t die soon enough.  
When speaking about Mary, a beautiful woman from what I could see from the photograph, I couldn’t help but notice him hesitate when speaking about her. But I could sense the fondness he still felt for her, a young love like that always holds a special place in your heart.  
I felt a tang of jealousy. Not because of her, but because I didn't get the chance to feel love like they once did. To have someone you love, love you back just the same despite any differences. It was a shame it didn’t work out for them, some of those differences becoming the wedge that drove them apart.  
He only left me when Miss Grimshaw came along to change my dressings, to get us both some supper and another bottle of whiskey after we polished off the last one together. 

The alcohol did help with the ache, replacing it with a slight buzz but not without slight weariness, but I knew drinking anymore would be asking my headache not to leave.  
The sun was far beyond the horizon now, the moon firmly replacing it. Now slouched on the cot and Arthur splayed out on the chair with one foot perched on the cot beside my hip.  
A yawn made my tiredness become more apparent, soon I'll be fighting to keep my eyes open.  
After a few moments of silence, listening to the nocturnal birds fly overhead, realising everyone else must have gone to sleep, Arthur stood, motioning to the tonic that I had neglected in favour of the whiskey, telling me to drink up before I fell asleep. 

“I can go to my tent. Don’t want to hog your bed again.” I said, another yawn making its way out of me.

“Nah it’s alright. Not gunna kick an injured lady out've a more comfy bed.” he looked down at me, his mouth turning up into a small smile.

“Where will you sleep?”

“I got my bedroll out there, I’ll sleep where I drop.”

“I'll feel bad if you have to sleep out there when I’m in here,” He just looked at me, expecting a fight to stop me from sleeping somewhere a little less comfortable no doubt. “Might as well sleep here.” His eyebrows raised at that and it took me a moment to realise what he must have thought I was suggesting.  
“Oh, no, I mean you might as well bring your bedroll in here. At least then you will have a cover over your head.”

His face relaxed at my explanation, giving off a half-smirk and looking back down at the ground, stroking the back of this neck that I noticed he does when nervous or uncomfortable. Lord, it is cute when he does that.  
Finally, he nodded, giving in with a quiet, sure.

He returned within seconds with his bedroll, which must have been nearby, and laid it out on the floor. Kicking off his boots and draping a worn blanket over him. I did the same, both of us now staring up at the canvas with our hands resting behind our heads.   
Sleep slowly taking over me.

“Goodnight, Arthur. Thank you again.” I spoke softly.

“Goodnight, Bella” he replied, just as soft as i.

-

It was barely daybreak when I woke up. The birds singing their morning song all around, a call to breakfast and a new day with new possibilities.   
My head still had a lingering pulse, not sure if it was from last night whiskey or finally getting over the multiple blows I received.   
Either way, coffee could fix it.

I took my time getting on my feet, my body still aching lightly and to not wake Arthur, who was curled up on the floor facing me, his arm propping up his head as a pillow.  
I made my way out of the tent to be greeted by stunning orange hues illuminating the camp and Flat Iron Lake.   
I made my way to the campfire to brew a fresh batch, adding wood to the dying fire as I waited.   
I grabbed two tin cups, waiting for the coffee to emit its awakening aroma before pouring. Even just the smell was helping my head ease off a bit.   
I sat with my coffee, blowing on it absentmindedly, my eyes lost in the fire as my mind flashed, replaying what happened not two days ago.   
It wasn't the first time to be taken against my will in that way, although I'm thankful it didn't get that far. But just knowing that Frank gave his permission for my captors to do whatever they wanted with me and to be paid handsomely for it along with my return made a feeling burn within me that I have never felt before. Pure rage.   
Staying in camp would be the safest thing I can do now, Frank won’t give up. No doubt I would go insane. Maybe I could change my appearance somehow so I could venture out from time to time.

I was pulled out of my thoughts as Arthur sat down beside me on the log. I never even heard him approach me I was so lost within my mind.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as I handed him his cup of coffee, still piping hot. 

“I'm gonna kill Frank,” I said matter-of-factly, turning to face him. The look of bewilderment on his face made me huff out a laugh.


End file.
